


Spellbound

by WikkedGrace



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Demons, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Fairies, M/M, Magic, Urban Fantasy, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-03-17 07:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13654191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WikkedGrace/pseuds/WikkedGrace
Summary: Suspended from his job at the police department in Toronto, Allen decides to spend the time away to return to his childhood home after his father's death. But the discovery of Mana's final project in his cellar sets off a chain of events which puts everything Allen has ever known into question.





	1. The Uncertain Future

> **12 December, 1995**

At seventeen years old, Allen Walker was already leading a strange life. Not that his life was any better than those of his peers, whose were no doubt filled with much excitement and wonder. He was mortal, after all, which was both a joy and a terror. His life, however, was anything but typical. Unusual things happened to him that never seemed to happen to other people with regularity, if ever. For example, he wouldn’t be late for school had it not been for the little girl waiting for him outside of his doorstep. Elda never had the preteen melancholy which seemed to grip children so easily. She was noticeably chipper for a twelve-year-old, in fact, always quick to crack a smile. This morning, however, she appeared wistful, her green eyes paled and her blonde hair deflated and dry in the cold winter air.

Wordlessly, she began walking down the road. Not wanting to lose her, Allen hoisted his backpack over his shoulder, chasing her small form through the lightly falling snow. It was still dark, but in the dim illumination of the distant street lamps, he could almost make out her pale, bare feet. Immediately, Allen knew something was not right. However, he was not about to turn away from her. For most people, this would be incredibly unusual. For Allen, this was a Tuesday morning.

The pair walked for as long as the street took them until the road ended and the woods began. The distant sun was beginning to peek over the trees, slicing the dark horizon in two. Elda finally stopped, turning in the snow as the sound of trickling water found his ears. Their eyes met, and an understanding passed between them. Allen’s shaky breath emerged in a white cloud, quickly dissolving between them. Elda smiled sadly and offered her hand. Allen took it gratefully, and they continued along the river bank. No matter how many times he’d done this, he was never prepared for it and doubted he ever would be. He knew where this path would end. He knew what he would find there.

They came to a steep incline in which a wastewater drainage pipe emerged from the frozen dirt. During the warmer months, the pipe would have a steady flow draining into the river, polluting the environment with human waste and improperly disposed kitchen grease. Currently, the water flow was at a standstill. At the top of the incline was an unpopular jogging path, which, buried in snow, was more unused than ever. An offensive odour seemed to be spilling from the pipe, but it was not the stink of sewage. Allen crouched, covering his nose in an attempt to circumvent the putrid stench. The inside of the drainpipe was as dark as sin.

He turned to look at Elda, and could now see the garrottes across her neck which were not there when they met this morning. The boy rummaged through his winter coat, extracting his flashlight, which was evidently handy when following strange girls through the woods, and pointing it down the dark pipe. He didn’t want to flip the switch, he knew what was in there; but he did, and his stomach flipped on its side. Elda’s blood-soaked blouse was visible some ten yards into the pipe. Her small, pale hand emerged limply from under her broken body, bent at an impossible angle to accommodate for the smallness of the black tunnel. He flipped the switch off, indebted to the forgiving darkness once again.

“I’m so sorry, Elda,” Allen’s voice was hushed. He turned back to her, but the girl had vanished. She had done what she needed to do. The boy picked himself up, brushing away the snow that was sticking to his knees. It was going to be a long day.

 

* * *

 

 

The news of Elda’s murder spread quickly. The entire town knew of it before the tabloids did, as was the nature of such a small community in northeastern Ontario. Homicide was not at all typical locally. It was a quiet town, and mostly, it kept to itself. Allen knew that if he approached the police about it, he would immediately be considered a suspect. He also knew that in a small town, a true alibi could and would be backed by more than one witness. Elda had been reported missing that weekend, and Allen Walker had been away that weekend visiting a friend in the city. Since the jogging path was conveniently between his house and his school, he didn’t really need to come up with a reason why he was wandering around in the wooded areas at dark. He simply explained that he was on his way to school when nature called, and the odd smell from below caught his attention, and curiosity.

Despite his request not to be named in the news report, word still spread. There was nothing he could do to stop that. The whispers followed him in the halls at school. He could only imagine what they were gossiping about now; Allen was already a strange kid to begin with. If anything stood out about him, it was his stark white hair and stormy blue eyes. Students were asked to remove their hats in class, but the moment he exited the room, his black toque was stretched over his head to hide it.

Not that it helped to keep the others from staring. The boy was, for lack of a better word, feminine. He was too skinny, too delicate looking. For this reason, among others, he’d been bullied constantly throughout his school years. In junior high, he adopted the habit of wearing thick-rimmed glasses and ugly clothes which were far too big for him. He didn’t want to be popular. He just wanted to be left alone, but it seemed that trouble always found him regardless.

“Budge up!” He was pushed into the lockers from behind, his shoulder meeting the aluminium wall with a blunt force that knocked him off balance. The side of his head also hit the wall, jerking his glasses loose. Allen fell flat on his ass, swiping up his glasses before the hooligans could destroy them. “Whoops, my bad! Don’t kill me! I don’t wanna die!”

The boys howled in laughter as their friend cowered in mock fear. Allen rolled his eyes, trying to fit the glasses back on his face. The frame had been jostled loose and they didn’t sit correctly on his nose. Great. He would need to get them fixed after school. Mana would love that. Allen stood and adjusted his coat, making to continue on his way and ignore the bullies. They didn’t like that. Dev and his little wolf pack loved to pick on their underclassmen, especially Allen. He was just too easy. He doubted he would get a break from them anytime soon, because a part of him doubted they would even graduate this year.

“If that was you in the middle of winter, nobody would ever find you with that wisp of a wig of yours,” Dev continued, while his twin, Jas, roughy disheveled his hair. Allen shook him off, uncowed by their interference, though now totally annoyed. He kept them at arm’s length, glaring. A unified ‘Ooooh!’ rang through the small group, satisfied that they’d successfully touched on a nerve. Allen berated himself internally for feeding into their game. He should have just continued to ignore them like he always did, he thought.

“Back off,” he warned them.

“Or what?” Dev challenged. At that moment, another student arrived. He was another upperclassman like Dev and Jas, but that was about where their similarities ended. He had fiery red hair and stunning green eyes, standing tall and lanky. High cheekbones and a long face gave him a gauntness that was almost entirely contrived. “Oi, Lavi, just in time!” Dev crowed. Allen and Lavi made brief eye contact before Lavi’s palm pressed into his shoulder and forced him to back away a few steps. “The little freak is disrespecting us! We just tryin’a chat!”

Allen scowled at them, then turned his back on them and began walking the other way. He heard footsteps behind him, and Dev’s gang was making excited sounds. He knew Lavi was the one behind him. Allen whirled around to shout at them to leave him alone, but when a strong arm caught him and jerked him into the boys’ washroom, he fought back and wrenched himself out of his grip.

“Let go of me, Lavi!” Allen grumbled, finally snatching his arm free as the door slammed shut and the boys’ hoots and cheers became muffled. He realised he was backed into the wall between two of the sinks, and that Lavi had him cornered, both hands clutching the basins. The taller boy glowered at him impatiently.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve been a proper hermit since…” Lavi didn’t finish, but Allen knew what he meant. He’d only found Elda’s body that week, and ever since, he had mostly kept to himself. In Lavi’s terms, that seemed like an eternity.

See, Allen wasn’t keen on letting the world know how much of a freak he actually was. He knew better than to tell anyone his secret. It would only cause more trouble, and trouble was something he had plenty of. The boy closed his eyes and released a tired sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he relented, “I’ve had a lot on my mind.” Lavi gave him an empathetic smile.

“You can talk to me, you know,” he said lightly, a frown creasing at the corners of his lips. He had no idea how bad Allen wished he could.

“They’re not your problems.”

“What if I want them to be?” Lavi’s sudden fervour caught him off guard. Lavi took Allen’s hands in his own. They were warm, tempting him to push himself further against the other boy’s body. He squeezed them gently, reassuringly. “Allen, I care about you. I care about you a lot. I hate to see you like this, it’s not right. You shouldn’t have to—!” He was cut short when Allen pulled their lips together. The truth was, despite Lavi’s affiliation with Dev and his gang, he and Allen were close. Really, really close.

Allen had spent much of his childhood in an orphanage. The other kids were fun to play with, but he’d always been curious about the quiet red-head with the burned face. Allen spent months trying to bring him out of his shell, and it took almost a year before he even learned his name. Lavi’s entire family had perished in a house fire, a tragedy only he had emerged from alive. Some of his hair had been burned away, which was for a time buzzed off. It grew back like a fierce red jungle, but the damaged skin inflicting the right side of his face served as a constant reminder of his past. While presently the scar tissue was nearly unnoticeable and he wore a glass eye, back then, the other kids were afraid to go near him because of his ugly face.

Not Allen. They were inseparable, always testing the patience of the nuns, and spending their ‘punishments’ together was all that mattered to them. Eventually, Allen was adopted, but that never stopped them from seeing one another. Things began to change when they entered school. By junior high, Lavi’s scarring was mostly faded, and puberty began to kick in. He became drop-dead gorgeous, and with his good looks came subsequent popularity. Allen was not so lucky; he’d remained feminine looking, which didn’t bode well between his scrawny frame and white hair. Allen wasn’t popular; he was weird.

They had never actually remembered when their bond evolved into an attraction for one another. It just sort of happened, and without a doubt pulling at either of their minds, they dove in head-first. It felt so natural and right. Allen felt guilty for keeping secrets from Lavi; he was his protector, truly, the one and only person in this world he felt he could trust. So why didn’t he trust him with this?

“Don’t leave me,” Allen mumbled, his words muffled as he pressed his face into Lavi’s chest.

“Allen, what makes you think that I’d leave? I’ll keep working until you graduate, and then we’ll start a new life in Toronto, together. You can study, I’ll find a new job, and we’ll make it work.” Lavi’s words were comforting, and all he could do was melt into his embrace. He could stay there forever. He wanted to believe it was all true, all possible.

“Til death do us part,” Lavi added, lightly pecking the top of Allen’s snow white head. “Now stick your head under the sink, they want to think I’m giving you a dunk.” Allen rolled his eyes as Lavi went to flush the toilet a couple of times. He couldn’t remember when or why Lavi started pretending to bully him, but it had something to do with protecting him from the ‘real bullies.’ It wasn’t one hundred percent effective, of course, since Dev and his gang had been giving him grief for years now, but it saved him from several instances of pain and abuse nonetheless.

Allen exited the washroom first, his hair drenched and leaving a trail of wet droplets on the floor as he exited. Lavi emerged second, smiling at him as he went, an indicator to Dev’s gang that he was proud of his handiwork. Allen had his back turned to them, and as they laughed and pointed, they didn’t see the contented smile on his face.

And Lavi didn’t see it fade as he turned into the stairwell, sunk to his knees, and buried his face into them.

 

* * *

 

  
The afternoon light coming in from the kitchen window was depressingly bright as Allen sat glum and weary, eating cereal out of a ceramic bowl in his usual spot. His gaze shifted to the pile of supermarket tabloids that Mana collected, and he idly tugged one from the lot when the headline 'Mourning sister finds kitty litter in twin’s urn,' caught his eye. Below it was a short article on grave robbing and the efforts made by the city council to catch the thief. A frown came over him. There was only one reason why cremated bodies were ever replaced with cat litter- an offering of mortal ashes kept a summoned demon from attacking should a disagreement occur. Some asshole was at it again, but the mundanes didn’t have a clue.

Listening to the quiet house, he ate the pink hearts out of his Lucky Charms, saved for last as he always had. Slowly, his mood dwindled again. Another girl was dead, and, once again, Allen got involved when he shouldn’t have. The ability to interact with ghosts was one of the unfortunate side effects of being a witch. Mana had lectured him countless times to keep his head down, not to let anyone on that he had such an ability. If witches had learned anything from Salem, it was that humans weren’t fond of their kind, so much so that they would even kill other humans if they believed them to be witches.

While humans and witches were nearly identical physically, they were about as genetically similar as a giraffe to a grapefruit. He didn’t know for how long he could keep up this ruse with Lavi. He felt like the worst person on the planet for having lied to him for almost his entire life. Lavi had no idea he was a witch. He didn’t need to. If Mana ever found out that he was dating Lavi, Mana would erase all memories Lavi ever had of him. They would have to move away. Allen would deny it and keep denying it, but he knew at the pit of his wretched soul that one day, if they continued down this path, harm would come to Lavi, and Allen would be to blame for it.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t risk it. The thought settled into him like sinking lead. He’d been with Lavi for too long. They had been an item for over a year. They were happy. And now that things looked like they would work, he was getting smart? He couldn’t- wouldn’t- play this game anymore. It wasn’t worth Lavi’s life. He loved him that much.

Miserably, Allen ate the last spoonful of marshmallows. He listened carefully to the silent house again, and once he was certain that Mana wasn’t coming, he picked up the bowl and drank the sweet milk, his spoon clattering into its now empty insides. He reached for his cup of hot cocoa, leaning back in his chair. He wasn’t ready to move from the security of fond memories that muffled his thoughts of the future, but, perhaps, it might be time. He stared at the phone mounted on the wall, willing it to ring. He wondered if he shouldn’t just call Lavi. His hand was reaching for the phone when the familiar pace of Mana’s footsteps crunching into the snow came from the front of the house. Allen pulled back. There was no need to upset him more than their coming conversation probably would.

“Still hiding?” Came Mana’s greeting, the disapproval hard to miss. Allen shrank back a little. His adoptive father removed his winter coat and began wrestling to remove his boots next. “I don’t get to be Dad much anymore, you know, especially when you won’t tell me what’s wrong.” A stab of guilt made the sweet milk on his tongue go tasteless.

“Um, sorry,” Allen hedged, feeling like a loser. The truth was, as much time as Mana spent lecturing him on the right way to be a witch in this day and age, he owed everything to him. Mana was a witch, too, and adopted Allen because he believed that he needed proper guidance. Guidance no ordinary human could offer. Had a human family taken him in, their life would have been absolute hell once Allen started showing signs of magical abilities.

“Your glasses are broken, again,” Mana observed, frowning at the spectacles. “Are you being pushed around at school?”

Gathering his courage, Allen blurted, “Mana, I need a memory reversal charm.” He felt immediately sick with himself. Memory altering spells were dangerous because they never broke cleanly. Unlike most spells, they created a physical change in the brain to block the memories, and physical changes couldn’t be reversed with salt like a chemical change could; it needed a counter-spell. So, when used on a human, they wouldn’t even know it was a spell that made them forget, be it even the case they remember that they’d forgotten anything.

Brows high, Mana met Allen’s eyes with skepticism.  
  
“For..?”

Mana was thankfully not as angry as he expected him to be. Encouraged by that fact, Allen continued, wincing. “For my… my boyfriend.” His voice had been pensive, and hearing his guilt, Mana’s face grew almost frightened.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

Cradling his hot cocoa in his hands, Allen attempted to warm his soul. The furnace was on against the cold afternoon, but it wasn’t able to cure the chill lurking in the pit of his being. “Lavi… I… I need him to forget me,” he whispered. “I have to. I’m dangerous. I’ll hurt him. Me and him… I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner. I was so scared of what would happen to us. But now, I’m scared of what will happen to him.”

Mana went stiff, as if trying to decide how to react. Allen shivered, knowing that he would figure it out. The older witch slowly forced himself into motion, as if remembering where he was, but still clearly thinking things over. He took off his hat and hung it up with his coat, then moved to the kitchen to sit across from Allen. It wasn’t that Mana didn’t know that Allen was close to the other boy; when they were younger, Allen used to beg Mana to adopt the both of them so that they could live as brothers. Allen knew now why that wouldn’t have been a good option.

Finally, Mana sighed. “Allen,” he said, a gentleness in his voice that was rare even for such a kind man, “It’s alright, son. Sometimes, it may seem like two souls are meant to be together, but the gears just don’t line up right.”

“I’m sorry,” Allen repeated, knowing now that Mana had figured it out, “I’ve been lying to you. I’m a terrible son.” Mana only smiled sadly.

“Allen, there’s nothing to feel ashamed about here. You’re telling me the truth now, and I’m so proud of you for it. I never told my own parents about my girlfriend. I put her in more danger than you will ever put Lavi,” Mana said earnestly.

Allen looked up, bewildered. “You did, too?”

“Who hasn’t?” Mana answered, a little uncomfortably. “Once,” he added, a lengthy pause falling between them as Mana put his next thought together. “It was bad. I won’t pretend like I haven’t made mistakes in my life, but, Allen, this is one mistake you don’t want to make.” Mana’s tone became serious. Allen looked down at his cocoa miserably. He’d already come to the same conclusion on his own, and now that Mana knew, he would have to go through with it. This was going to suck. This was going to suck so, so much.

“Memory spells,” Mana continued, his eyes distant as if lost in a memory of his own, “They leave gaps. Sometimes, emotions come back, but the memories attached to them don’t. Often, it leaves them lost, unable to remember why they feel the way they do. Sometimes, it makes things worse.”

“I will help you with the spell,” Mana continued, grimly, taking Allen’s broken glasses. Wordlessly, Mana invoked a spell, and with a crispy crackling noise, his glasses were repaired. Mana handed them back. “But invoking it is up to you. You need to learn the consequences of involving yourself with mundanes. I know I haven’t been the best father to you, Allen, but I’d like to believe I taught you to think for yourself- even if you do precious little of it sometimes. I trust you to make the right decision.”

“My decisions suck dishwater,” Allen argued, but Mana raised a hand to silence him.

Allen sunk in his chair as he fiddled with the glasses between his fingertips. He’d never hated himself so much. But Mana was right. He couldn’t recall a time in which he wasn’t.

“Thank you, Mana.”

 

* * *

 

The very next day, Allen had a chemistry exam. He hadn’t studied for it, but he knew the content of it well enough already thanks in part to simply living with Mana. Mana was a master of poultices as well as memory charms, and Allen had learned a handful of useful elixirs from Mana’s instruction. He’d once made use of a nasty one in junior high that gave its victim zits, pimples, and made them grow hair in strange places. It easily flew right under the radar with all of his peers in the midst of puberty already. Mana actually hadn’t taught him that one, but why else would he keep his notes within easy reach? As far as Allen was concerned, it was almost as if he _wanted_ them to be found.

Lavi’s memory charm was disguised cleverly as a Coke can, already primed with Allen’s blood. It was even spelled to taste like a real Coke. A real, magical Coke. He of course wasn’t looking forward to doing it, but it needed to be done. During the lunch hour, he set the Coke can on his lunch tray and wandered into the line, as most students did. He’d adjusted his beanie cap so that it would keep his glasses on better, but one could still surmise they were crooked and made him look like he had no money; not that Allen minded looking that way. Allen peered about the lunch room, eyes searching, but not finding Lavi. It seemed strange. Lavi loved food, after all, and that must have meant he was being kept by a teacher. Perhaps he acted up again during class. His eyes fell as he came upon the food, and mindlessly reached for a sandwich. He sat alone as he normally did, eating quietly as he kept his eyes down.

A pale hand snatched up his Coke from before him, and his stomach flipped as he heard a popping sound.

“Bottoms up!”

“N-no!” Allen stammered as Dev took a hearty gulp of the “Coke," then handed it off to Jas to finish up. The twins were unapologetic as Jas crushed the can and threw it back at Allen, spraying him with the residue liquid as it clattered noisily under the bench. They plopped down on either side of him, sliding up so close that he was squeezed uncomfortably in between them. “Thanks for the refreshment, squirt!” Dev mocked, roughly whacking the side of Allen’s head.

Jas mirrored the action, adding, “Yeah, but it tasted like crap!”

“He’s used to it,” Dev responded, and when Allen finally started squirming, the two rose from the bench again and started walking away. “Just be glad Bookman wasn’t here, or he’d be giving you a shower with it!” The twins sauntered off, laughing at their own contrived cleverness, but Allen remained still, thinking about what they had said. Lavi wasn’t here? Did he stay home? Mana was going to be pissed about the spell. The twins would be fine as long as he didn't invoke it.

After his last class of the day, Allen hurried to the opposite end of town, careful to avoid any roads Dev and Jas might have taken. When he was certain they weren’t going in the same direction, Allen decided to check the auto shop where Lavi worked, first.

The owner, a middle-aged human by the name of Thierry, greeted him as he entered. The man was tall and built rough, his blocky chin and gentle eyes eluding nothing from his well-worked frame. He kept the garage door closed during the colder months to keep the chill out as much as possible, but Allen had to pull his parka closer despite the man’s efforts to keep his business running.

“How’s it going, Allen?” Thierry asked, rolling out from underneath the van he was working on. There was oil on his face, and he used a rag stuffed into his pockets to smear some of it off. He knew about Lavi and Allen’s relationship, and Thierry was one of the few he trusted with that information. The man was a textbook introvert and never gossiped. He didn’t even care that his employee was gay, only that he got his work done well.

“I’ve had better days,” Allen admitted, and Thierry frowned sympathetically.

“You want a beer?” he offered, moving to the small mini-fridge hidden behind the space he used as a desk.

“No, thank you,” Allen declined. The man popped open a can of Kokanee and downed a drink on his own.

“What brings you over? Looking for Lavi?”

“Yes, actually. Is he here?”

“Afraid not,” Thierry said, setting the beer can down and picking up his rag again. “In fact, I tried calling the fellow yesterday afternoon, see if he could watch the front for an hour or two. Couldn’t reach him. I had him scheduled in the shop today.” Allen grew distressed at the information.

“He wasn’t at school today, either,” Allen told the man. Thierry scratched at the short beard on his chin. “I was hoping he’d skipped, for work, you know?”

“I wish that was the case,” Thierry joked dryly. “Maybe he’s off with that gang of his, up to no good again,” the man added, shaking his head, “You know, I’ve tried talking some sense into that boy. He’s a sharp one, you see. Maybe a bit on the strange side, of course. Kid’s a germaphobe; he won’t touch any of my tools without gloves. I don’t know what he’s doing, hanging around a bunch of knuckle-headed kids like those twins, and that girl.”

Allen didn’t know either, but something still wasn’t adding up. Lavi wasn’t one to skip school, and would never miss work without a call. Something was wrong.

“Could I try calling again, Thierry? Maybe he’s just sick?” Allen asked, and the mechanic gestured to the telephone practically hammered into the wall of the shop. With his blessing, Allen almost ran to it, picking up the handset as Thierry rolled himself back under the van. He dialed Lavi’s number with shaking fingers and waited impatiently as the phone rang.

“Hello?” came Lavi’s voice from the other side, sounding faint as if he were sitting in a tin can.  
  
“Lavi! Where have you been all day? You missed work and-!”

“Haha! Fooled ya! Just my machine. You know the drill- leave your message when you hear the- _BEEEP!_ ” Allen’s hands faltered.

“Lavi… if you’re home right now… just pick up… no, doesn’t matter, I’m coming over.” Allen hung up suddenly, worry pinching his brow.

“I’ve got to go, Thierry. If he calls, tell him I’m looking for him.”

Allen bolted from the shop before he could hear Thierry’s response. The cold air burned his lungs, but that no longer seemed to matter. It was only half a mile to Lavi’s flat, but weighed down with his distraught thoughts, the walk seemed twice as far.

Lavi’s flat was located on the highest level, and Allen was practically dragging his own ass by the time he reached his floor.

“Forty-nine… forty-nine…” Allen repeated as he passed each door, growing more and more anxious as he passed forty-one through forty-eight. He rapped loudly on door number forty-nine and waited not even five seconds before trying the handle, which, surprisingly, gave in.

The door creaked open into a dark interior. Lavi had few possessions, aside from an old futon and television set hooked up to a SEGA Genesis in his living room.

“Lavi!” he called into the dark and empty room. Allen rushed inside, almost tripping over a pile of laundry that was left in the hamper. He pushed open the door to Lavi’s bedroom. The bed, which was nothing more than a wire frame and thrift store mattress, was empty. The washroom was empty as well, and the kitchen. Lavi wasn’t here. He slumped down on the bed, which squeaked loudly in protest, and buried his face in his hands.

Nobody had heard from Lavi since yesterday afternoon. That was a full twenty-four hours. He could be anywhere. He peered up across the room, at the wall-mounted telephone. The red light was blinking, alerting him to his messages. He pressed the button for the answerphone.

“You have six missed calls and four messages,” the robotic female voice announced, “First message.”

He listened to Thierry’s message asking him to call him as soon as possible. It must have been from the day before when he needed him to cover a couple of work hours. The second was from Road, a girl from Jas and Dev’s gang, informing him that she needed his homework to copy as soon as possible, as she would fail her math class if she missed another assignment. The third message was, unsurprisingly, from school, alerting him of his absence in classes. The last, of course, was his own, and he hung up before he had to listen to his own hopeless voice on the other end.

He dialed the number for Thierry’s shop. It rang a few times, and just as Allen was about to give up, the phone was picked up.

“Thierry’s Auto, Thierry speaking,” he spoke quickly, having spoken the line many times in the past.

“He’s not home,” Allen said. There was a silence on the other end.

“Right, I don’t like the sound of that. Allen, you should speak with the police. I’m afraid for him, and this isn’t something that should be taken lightly. Lavi doesn’t have any family here, and I don’t think those thugs he hangs out with give one juicy shit about his well-being.”

Allen nodded, then, remembering to speak, said, “Yes, sir.”

“And don’t go looking for him on your own, you hear me? You’ve had enough trouble with… things like this already. Go straight to the police, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” Allen repeated, numbly. He hung up the phone. Slowly, fearfully, he dialed Mana’s work phone. An irritated-sounding man picked up after the second ring.

“District courthouse, Mana Walker speaking. How may I direct your call?” He recited. Allen couldn’t speak. “Hello?” Mana called.

“Lavi wasn’t at school today. He’s not at home, and he’s been ignoring- missing calls,” Allen recounted. He could hear Mana setting a tall stack of papers down on his desk at the other end.

“Allen, go home. Don’t speak to anyone. Straight home, you understand? I don’t need you involved in another crime scene,” Mana spoke reasonably. Allen didn’t even have the energy to be angry at him.

“Allen?” Mana repeated, sternly.

“Yes, I understand.” The call ended, and the enormity of the situation struck him in the gut. This time he didn’t stop the tears.

 

* * *

 

A week passed, and the police report had no updates on Lavi’s whereabouts. He hadn’t been seen nor heard from by anyone since leaving school the day he made the promise to Allen never to leave him. Allen, as well as several of Lavi’s classmates, were questioned, but nothing came of the investigation. The holiday break offered a mercy to Allen, who feared that Dev’s gang would start an almost literal witch hunt for him if he showed his face again. It wasn’t until his birthday that he began to find the missing posters. Lavi had become nothing more than a mugshot on a milk carton. As time passed, it almost seemed as if the police had given up on finding Lavi. Not enough people cared, and it was a hurtful truth. He found himself almost wishing for Lavi’s ghost to seek him out, like Elda’s had, just so he could have some sort of closure.

Allen stopped going to school. He stopped leaving his room, even. Mana tried to convince him to carry on, to have some faith that Lavi would turn up. He’d had a fearsome row with Mana that night. Allen felt that they could do so much more with the investigation if Mana wasn’t so afraid of what he was, what they were. Mana each time insisted that divining him was impossible, and Allen wouldn’t believe a word of it. They were witches, damn it. Why couldn’t they? He’d even tried on his own, with no luck.

As the new year finally chased away the snow, however, even Allen found himself falling into apathy. He became more interested in his abilities, and though he still wasn’t going to school, he was learning so much more of a different nature. He became obsessed with it, demanding Mana teach him more. Knowing it kept his mind off of worrying about his lost friend, and lover, Mana obliged, teaching him how to weave spells he might regret knowing later in life. And life, as much as Allen wished he could fight it, carried on despite everything wrong in the world. Despite the gaping, ravaged hole in his heart.


	2. Walker Among Us

 

> **01 December, 2005 - ten years later**

“Don’t be sick now. Not here,” Allen moaned under his breath. He shut his eyes in a long blink, praying that the light wouldn’t hurt as much when he opened them again. The noon sun slanted in, but it would never reach his desk toward the middle of the maze of cubicles. Someone had brought Timbits somewhere in the mess, and the smell of the frosting had his stomach roiling. Sleep sounded so, so nice.

His forehead hit the edge of the metal desk and he stared miserably down at his shoes.

Last night had been a mistake. Six years in the Toronto police department. He’d been doing so well. But one too many drinks, even for a witch, is enough to make one stupid little mistake. Like forgetting that other people couldn’t see ghosts while he raised a toast to one sitting at the pub with them. Allen glanced up, sending his gaze over the ugly yellow partitions. His eyes narrowed, watching his coworkers look the other way. They stood in huddled groups as they gossiped, pretending to be busy. Their hushed whispers grated on his ears. He spied his boss making his way toward his cubicle, and Allen took a slow breath, knowing he was in trouble.

He watched the vampire approach, observing his nostrils flare as he took in the smells around him. Vampires could sniff out a pixie fart in a tornado, but unlike a lycan, a vampire could also sense pheromones, such as fear or lust. Allen was no expert on vampiric instincts, but he learned a lot by working with Tyki Mikk, and that was mostly what _not_  to do. Rule number one was to always remain calm, because when the blood pressure rose, that’s when the fangs came out.

Five seconds into his rehearsed explanation, Mr. Mikk flipped open a manila envelope and dropped a slip of paper on his desk before him. Tyki was his boss, but he was also a vampire, and would often spin a cover for Allen when his assignments took a normally unexplainable turn. In that regard, Tyki was an invaluable ally. But there were times he had to play the devil’s advocate.

“Take some time off, Allen,” he said out loud, but his intense eye contact with him told a different story. In a slightly lower tone, he added, “And I’ll get you signed up for some therapy, so the ghosts will leave you alone.” A jilted chorus of snickers followed, silenced quickly when Tyki turned his head toward them. They couldn’t talk candidly in the open, but Allen and Tyki had a fairly straightforward understanding. Tyki would usually assign him tasks requiring a little supernatural affinity, and allow him to use his talents to solve a case, as long as they remained within reasonable bounds.

Allen possessed a brilliant mind, and that was no secret around the office. He had a strong record of cracking cases within weeks that would stump his colleagues for months. Despite this, he was not as respected as he might wish. His snowy white hair still preceded him to the point that he had attempted to dye it several times, but it would never last. Eventually, he’d given up, and wore his oddities with pride.

“Erm, but what about-?“

“Already signed,” Tyki interrupted his question, winking. Allen eyed him suspiciously, but obediently signed the sheet Tyki had given him. “May I see you in my office? You look like you could use some water.”

Allen quickly agreed, and they braved the averted eyes to the Chief’s quarters. It was a sanctioned area, hidden behind a door, unlike the cubicle floor. It wasn’t soundproofed, but Allen had a spell for that. Tyki beckoned for him to work his magic once the door was shut, and like a soft blanket thrown over the legs, their ears both popped as the air pressure shifted to accommodate for the new layer of magic. Allen settled down in the comfortable armrest, only to see Tyki’s abrupt look of disapproval.

“I know what’s going on, Walker,” Tyki said. He had that throaty, low voice only vampires were allowed to have. It’s a rule somewhere, Allen thought. Low, sweet, and coaxing. The promise in it pulled his skin tight.

“Beg pardon?” Allen asked, pleased that his voice didn’t crack under Tyki’s terrifying eyes.

“You have got to get your personal business sorted out. A month of this nonsense. That’s enough. You’ve been drinking.”

“I drink occasionally, it’s really nothing, Tyki. I’m fine.”

“Your blood alcohol level has been consistently higher.”

“I’ll take a test.”

“No need, I can smell it," Tyki countered impatiently.

Allen harrumphed, knowing it would be pointless to argue. He crossed his arms defencively. “Okay, and who will pick up special cases while I’m gone?”

“I will.”

“You? No offence, but you’re about as useful as a screen door on a submarine when it comes to my line of work,” Allen said shortly. Tyki snorted, amused.

“If I need a witch for anything, I’ve got one. I only keep you around because you’re pretty,” Tyki laughed cruelly.

Allen flushed angrily. “Go sodomise a leech.” Nothing seemed to bring the vampire more pleasure than pushing Allen’s buttons. Tyki barked in laughter, moving uncomfortably close to Allen. Again, he watched the vampire’s nostrils flare, taking in his scent. “You need to get laid, Mikk, I could report you for sexual harassment. This is incredibly inappropriate and unprofessional!“

“For your information,” Tyki drew back with an offended upturn of his nose, “I’ve been seeing someone. In fact, we have a date tonight.” Allen gawked.

“ _Who, damn it?!_ “ Allen wanted to ask, ‘ _who would be stupid enough to go out with you?_ ‘ After remembering that Tyki had survived several hundred years preying on lusty and desperate souls, he decided it was best to leave it at that.

“Daisya Barry. He’s a human.” Allen knew that gender had never mattered to Tyki, because for him it was all about sharing blood, not sex, but he was alarmed by the fact that it was a human. Most of the magical folks preferred not to intermix with humans, as the results were more often than not tragic. All species had specific needs, and humans were simply best left to their own. The only ones who regularly mingled with humans were elves and occasionally fey, but vampires? That was like a lion befriending a chunk of zebra meat. At Allen’s questioning look, Tyki’s smile only grew into a toothy grin, an unnerving glint in his eye. “I’ve discovered a most interesting sexual fetish whilst browsing… what did you call it? ‘ _Craig’s list_ '?”

Allen wanted to choke himself. He should have never taught Tyki how to use the computer, much less the internet. Now he basically admitted to him he was searching for S&M, or some haemophilia kink, and heaven knows what else on personal ads.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry I asked. Look, back on topic. How long do you think I can be away from the field? As far as I know, I’m the only witch on the force.”

“Actually,” Tyki stopped him again, looking pleased, “Haven’t you met our new transfer?” The vampire moved to the window and parted the blinds.

Allen turned his eyes to peer out of the office window at the tall, Asian woman sitting quite comfortably at her desk. She was using the phone, twirling the cord in her slender fingers. Officer Lenalee Lee transferred from Montreal two weeks ago, and her desk was still a mess of unsorted work. The only thing he knew about her was that she kept a photo of a man on her desk, but he didn’t know her relationship was to the man in the picture.

“She’s a witch?” Allen asked, his curiosity piqued. He couldn’t believe he didn’t notice right away.

“She’s got experience in dealing with the more… delicate situations. She likens them to exorcisms, but let’s call it what it is. Folks who summon demons are gonna find her foot up their asses and a cable tie round their wrists. We’re lucky to have her.” Tyki praised. Lenalee was taking down notes now, looking very serious. “Why don’t you say hello on your way out? Take a week off. I want you back in the office _sober_ , Walker.”

Allen’s attention snapped back to the police Chief, who was suddenly very serious.

“Dismissed.”

Allen dropped the proofing spell, and the sounds of a busy office trickled inside the room again. Allen trudged back to his desk, now painfully aware of Lenalee’s presence. Several thoughts ran through his mind at that moment, such as, ‘ _Can she see ghosts, too?_ ' Allen hadn’t met many other witches beside himself and Mana. Allen plucked a pencil from the old coffee mug on his desk, scribbling his phone number and a note on the corner of his legal pad. He paused, staring at it momentarily. What if his problem _wasn’t_ normal? What if getting another witch involved was a bad idea? Allen crumpled up the note and tossed it in the bin, thinking better of it. Just because she was a witch didn’t make her an ally. He hadn’t even spoken to her yet.

He peered up over the partitions, spying Lenalee again. She was no longer on the phone, now busying herself filing stacks of papers away and inserting labels on folders. He wondered how much print she would have after only having just arrived in Ontario. How skilled of a witch was she, really? Allen began to wonder just how effective his work was if Tyki felt the need to take another witch onto the team. Was he just feeling jealous? Maybe this all was going to his head. Maybe he did need to take some time off. Maybe, for once, Tyki was right.

He plucked the scrap of paper from the bin, and after gathering up his necessities, bid farewell to the office and passed Lenalee’s desk on his way out. He dropped the paper on her desk as he left, and didn’t look back.  


* * *

 

 

The lock made a satisfying click as he turned the key and opened the door into his flat. The comfortable feeling of home was there to welcome him as he hung up his parka and pulled off his boots. He rather liked where he lived; it was a two-bedroom penthouse and had a fairly nice view of the snow-covered downtown Toronto. The kitchen was small, but, neither of them used it much anyway. Allen paused as he checked his wards. Witches were hardwired to be a little paranoid. It was a survival instinct. As expected, they all remained untouched, untampered with.

He entered the kitchen first, filling a glass with water and spelling a few ice cubes to form in the drink. He then made an almost straight line to the couch, falling into it after gently setting the glass down on the coffee table before him. Like a true couch potato, he flipped on the television, not entirely interested in watching anything, but having it there for the background noise. He stopped when he came to a drama film. It was about two best friends falling in love, but failing to notice one another’s advances. Allen curled up on the armrest, pulling a big throw blanket over his legs. The movie was resurfacing some bittersweet memories, ones he thought he’d let go of. He was mesmerised.

After Lavi vanished, he’d become severely depressed. It was as if a cloud had fallen over him then. He couldn’t recall wanting anything more than to just get away from it all. Mana sent him away to the city, and doing so taught him a lot about the magical world. He’d come from a tiny town of humans, after all. Mana wanted to live there simply because it was easier to be a witch when the world wasn’t watching, but Allen had learned to respectfully disagree. In a big city like Toronto, hiding in plain sight was a simple matter. Everyone was so preoccupied with little things like traffic jams and that Santa was visiting the shopping centre at noon. It was too easy for a mundane to miss things like vampire harems in the clubs or gargoyles spitting on unsuspecting passerbys- and even then they just blame it on pigeon crap.

He heard the door click open, and when his wards remained quite still, he knew who it was that had entered. A box of sushi was thrown into his lap as his significant other leapt over the back of the couch and settled quite comfortably next to him, already digging into his own fried pork expertly with a pair of chopsticks. His partner’s dark, almond eyes peered up briefly at the television screen.

“What the hell are you watching?” Kanda asked. Allen picked up his sushi, ticked that Kanda had jostled the ginger sauce all over the seaweed paper rolls when it hit his lap. The dark-haired man wasn’t a vampire, but sometimes his ability to sneak into a room without making a sound gave Allen doubts. Yu Kanda was, in fact, a lycan. They met at University in Allen’s first year and started dating after he began his internship.

Even while they were still in school, Kanda had an impressive grasp of the English language for someone who had only spent a year or so learning it. His family fled Japan after rumours of their existence of being lycans started to circulate. Allen guessed he’d come from a very superstitious town, but he didn’t like to ask many questions about it as he noticed it normally bothered Kanda to speak on the matter.

“Just some crap,” Allen answered, and Kanda seemed to accept it, picking up the remote and flipping through the channels again about as aimlessly as he had. Now they were watching a WJH game versus Russia. It was fairly one-sided, so he turned his attention from the screen to his boyfriend. “How did it go today?” Kanda’s lips twisted into a frown and his eyes pinched in aversion. He already knew the answer was not good, but he would let him say it, anyway.

“Someone decided to bring a dog to the shoot. It wouldn’t stop barking at me,” Allen had to restrain himself or he might start laughing. It had taken him years to make Kanda feel comfortable enough to talk to him like this, so he wasn’t about to ruin it. Kanda wasn’t the kind to trust easily. “The stupid thing had its tail in between its legs the whole time and wouldn’t go near me. They couldn’t determine what got it so spooked.” There was a hint of pride behind his words which Allen couldn’t quite place.

“Did they cancel the shoot?”

“No,” Kanda sighed, eating more pork and calming. “They took the dog to a separate shoot and used a green-suit model. They want to photoshop it in.” He could hear the cringe easily in his voice. Though cats seemed to love him, dogs were intimidated by Kanda. It wasn’t just because he was a lycan, but because of his status as an alpha. Lycans had a strange, self-governing culture that revolved around packs; basically, if one was a lycan and didn’t belong to a pack, they were free meat for the hunt. Since packs didn’t exactly suit Kanda’s lone-wolf lifestyle, Allen became his “pack.” The arrangement ticked off every lycan around him, since Allen was a witch, and Kanda wouldn’t have it any other way, loving nothing more than to stick it to the big wigs.

“Mikk get in your pants yet, detective?” Allen punched him in the arm playfully. Kanda smiled slyly, the glint of a small fang protruding from his lips. “Don’t worry. If he does, I’ll eat him for you.”

Allen doubted he could take on that old vampire, but he would let Kanda think what he wanted to think. Not that Kanda wasn’t strong in his own right; he was a lycan, of course. Luckily, he didn’t think Tyki was out for trouble, and he had no reason to believe it was any of his business if he was. Kanda was a fairly well-known male model based locally in Toronto, and got to travel a fair bit because of it. They made a comfortable living together, and it was rare that his name was ever mentioned in Kanda’s career. Allen preferred it this way. He didn’t need the spotlight turned on him and his weird life.  
  
“Will you be alright, coming back on a full moon?” Allen questioned, and Kanda shrugged. Alarmed, he added, “We can come back earlier if you like.”

“It’s fine, Moyashi,” Kanda groused, and Allen shrank back into the cushion to finish his sushi. Moyashi was sort of his pet name, and Kanda told him once that it meant ‘bean spout’ in his native language. It took him years to accept that he was essentially being called out as the little guy, but it sort of grew on him eventually. Nowadays it didn’t bother him. He felt himself warm when a hand was placed over his own. “It’s just business, right? I’ll be there for you no matter what.”

Allen felt unshed tears pooling in his eyes, but he willed them away before things got too gushy. When Mana died of his illness last month, Kanda wouldn’t leave his side, even on the full moons. He couldn’t have asked for a more supportive person to share his life with, and not a day went by that he wasn’t grateful for the companionship. Now, Kanda was determined to help him sort out this last bit of necessary business, which was cleaning out Mana’s house before they surrendered it to the realtors. Allen had made the decision that afternoon to take care of it while he was essentially suspended from work.

They estimated it would take the whole week for them to completely evacuate it of anything out of the ordinary. As Mana’s only successor in his will, Allen had full rights to any possessions he left behind. He knew the reason for this was because Mana knew Allen would be smart enough to clear his home of any weird, witchy shit before the human banks got their paws on it in the event of his untimely death. It was also why Allen trusted only Kanda to help him do it; lycans were immune to most witch hexes, which Mana was not shy about boobytrapping his valuables with. Kanda was well aware of what he was getting into, and was still determined to help in any way he could. What did Allen do to deserve such a perfect man?

Suddenly, Kanda set his finished meal on the coffee table and leaned back, coiling an arm around behind Allen and squeezing him into his side. “I’m going to the gym,” he announced.

“But you just got home,” Allen protested, knowing this wouldn’t stop the man.  
  
“So?”

“…”

“Come with me, then,” Kanda said provocatively. Allen harrumphed, recognising this game. “Come on.”

“That’s not going to w—” Allen jerked when he made the mistake of turning his head, seeing Kanda already taking off his shirt to show off his impressive abs. He turned, displaying his strong back muscles and the tattoo on his shoulder blade. It was a lotus flower which read “Beautiful” and “Fragile” in Japanese. His lycan body heat was capable of keeping him warm during the cold months, and he often liked to rub it in Allen’s face, who was always bundled up like a hairless cat. The man was literally hot stuff, and he knew it. Kanda peered at him over his shoulder, knowing he’d already won.

“That’s not fair,” Allen whined, looking at him with cerulean kitten eyes.

“If you’re going to stare at my ass, you could at least be spotting for me,” Kanda added, smirking manipulatively at him. Allen shoved the last bite of sushi in his mouth and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

“Let me grab my gym pants…” Allen grumbled in defeat.

What Allen expected to be an easy thirty minutes at the gym turned into a grueling two hours, but he was resolute not to complain. He ought to have expected that a strong werewolf like Kanda would have the endurance of a Budweiser horse, but it didn't translate well when Allen tried to keep up with him. He was already breaking a sweat after three minutes just running, and stopped after a twenty-minute jog, deciding he was severely out of shape and should get out more often. He was too damned skinny, he wanted muscles, and there were no spells in existence to give him any. Besides, that would be cheating. After resigning to rest, he went to spot for Kanda.

A satisfying ‘clang!’ resounded as Kanda benched twice his body weight, setting the bar back and sitting up to smile devilishly at Allen. The man stood, stretched, wiped the bench, and then sauntered down the hall toward the showers, shooting a backward glance at Allen as he went. Allen felt his body heat skyrocket. It was nearly midnight, and nobody else was here; there was a more popular twenty-four-hour gym this side of town, so any night owls were probably there. He followed him to the steamy locker room, squinting into the mist.

Kanda was already stripped bare, his chiseled frame familiar but as breathtaking as ever. Allen could look upon it a thousand times and still be stunned every time. His build was athletic, with all the right muscles in all the right places, but not so many as to be overbearing. Allen’s hand crossed his chest, feeling his own arms. He didn’t have the sort of build that Kanda did; Allen was skinny, almost feminine. He didn’t have that same stamina as Kanda did, and never would be able to compete with a lycan in terms of physical strength.

“You’re well-shaven for a wolfman,” Allen commented, attempting to sound nonchalant, but failing miserably. He couldn’t see Kanda’s expression through the steam, but a small noise escaped him that sounded amused. Kanda didn’t have a fleck of hair on him but for his eyebrows and the top of his head. Allen knew. He approached the shower next to Kanda’s and turned on the hot water, casting the room into an even foggier light. He closed his eyes, letting the merciful, hot water run down his body. It was peaceful, knowing it was only the two in here.

He felt something soft touching his hips, and he opened his eyes to see that Kanda was now standing next to him. The water seemed to become ten degrees hotter as he realised that Kanda was doing the _tail thing_ again. A fluffy, black tail, soaked with the water, was protruding from his butt, and Allen looked up to see that indeed, he’d morphed his ears as well. Kanda was well aware that doing so turned Allen on. Lycans couldn’t shift outside of a full moon, at the risk of losing their minds, but as that time approached, they could safely morph parts of their bodies. It was strange, animalistic chemicals at work in their brains which Allen couldn’t make heads nor tails of, but somehow, according to Kanda, it helped ease their wild spirits as the full moon approached.

Kanda was eying him hungrily, but not like he might look at a rabbit before running it ruthlessly to the ground. There was a lust in his eyes. Something passed between them, and Kanda leaned in, taking Allen’s form and pulling it close to his own. The lycan was aggressive when it came to easing sexual tensions, and Allen loved it. Kanda’s thin, pianist fingers wove their way into Allen’s silvery hair, finding purchase, but holding to him in a gentle and protective grasp as he positioned Allen’s head. They kissed, and soon, Kanda didn’t even need to hold his head, because Allen was now pressing forward, begging him for more with his body. They pulled away momentarily, Kanda’s dark eyes boring into Allen’s with an unspoken question. The witch looked back into them intently, giving him his answer.


	3. What If

 

> **02 December, 2005**

“Let’s stop here, I have to piss.”

“Again?” Allen sighed loudly. For all of his masculinity, Kanda had a bladder the size of a pinhead. But Allen didn’t dare argue with a lycan, so he took the next exit and stopped his car at a roadside washroom. Kanda was perfectly content doing his business in the bushes, but a toilet was still convenient where possible. Allen waited for him in the car, preferring to stay where it was warm. He fiddled with the radio, finally having enough of the Black Eyed Peas.

They had been off the main roads for a while now, taking a small, two lane road rather than the main motorway. It worked out, since Mr. Walnut Bladder became irritated when he couldn’t use the can when he wanted to.

There was a crackle of cellophane as Kanda gathered up the trash around his seat. The man never stopped eating. He _really_ liked to snack on Cheetos and beef jerky, but at least he never left his garbage in Allen’s car. He happened to take pride in his brand new Acura, and would curse Kanda into the next century if he left so much as an orange crumb on the floor. He opened the door, letting in a gust of cool wind smelling like water and pine. Allen shivered. The vehicle shifted when he shut it again, then made his way to a snow-covered bin some yards away from the lot. His mind settled into a calm when Kanda disappeared into the washroom.

The sound of another car parking a few slots down drew his attention. Three young boys erupted out of the van, arguing fervently about who stole the batteries out of their Gameboys. Mum stepped out, expertly ignoring the pathetic cadging of her boys, settling the dispute with a pack of double A batteries that only a mother would have the foresight to bring on a road trip. Their dad gave them each some money, which they all three took off with, shoving each other trying to get to the vending machine first. Allen smiled wistfully as the couple leaned against their van, watching their kids. His smile slowly dwindled.

He’d always wanted children, but with several decades of fertility facing him, he wasn’t in any kind of hurry to procreate. His thoughts drifted to Kanda, and he pulled his eyes from the boys crowding around the vending machine. Even if Kanda were a woman, children would never be possible between them. Witches mating outside their species was a normal practice. There were about one hundred lycans for every witch, and even more vampires per lycan. That said, witches were hard to come by, as their species was essentially culled to the brink of extinction throughout the 1600s. There were perfectly acceptable options like adoption, or borrowing your best mate’s girlfriend for the night. Moral questions didn’t seem to matter when one found themselves in love with someone with whom they couldn’t procreate. It was way too soon to think about kids, but with Kanda, any children would have to be engendered by somebody else. The couple drifted away, talking between themselves. There wouldn’t have been any children with Lavi, either. It wasn’t like this was anything new to him.

Frustrated, he reached under the seat and pushed it backwards. He wondered why he was even thinking about Lavi. This wasn’t a choice between Lavi or Kanda. There was nothing left in their relationship for them to rekindle. Lavi had gone missing ten years ago, hadn’t even left a trace or a clue to follow him. But the wedge of doubt wiggled itself between him and his logic, settling in to make him feel stupid. His focus blurred as he pulled a grit-coated memory of Lavi, imagining how he’d looked one day after they had attempted to bake Mana a birthday cake, but had failed exceptionally when a bag of sugar tore open, coating Lavi in so much powdered sugar he’d resembled the ghost of Christmas past. Mana had let him use the shower to wash up, and, remembering that there weren’t any towels set out for him, Allen managed to walk in on him when he brought the fresh linens over. He remembered the white dust running off of him in the shower, the sigh of relief he must have made. The slowly dissipating puddle of milky liquid under him, and the soap bubbles among his toes. The glisten of water on his clean skin, both slippery and firm when he shook his head, and the drops went flying. His fiery red hair had somehow looked light under the water, but his real eye was a brighter green yet.

“Oh, God, stop it, Allen!” he moaned, his heart pounding. He sat bolt upright, adjusting his seat again and bumping the wheel as he did so, sounding the horn. He spotted Kanda in the rearview mirror, his brow raised in question as he approached the vehicle. Allen flushed bright red when he opened the door, the sound of more crinkly bags assaulting his ears. Not that he was surprised that Kanda made a stop for more jerky- he was a lycan, after all. Kanda immediately caught on, able to recognise Allen’s tells easier than he could recognise a wolf in heat. Thank God he wasn’t a vampire, or he’d be able to smell the sexual vibes radiating off of him, too.

“Were you seriously about to rub one out?” Kanda asked, finally shutting the door when his long legs were pulled inside. Allen could feel his face warming, betraying him.

“No! Don’t be stupid!” Allen blurted quickly, reaching for the seatbelt with his right hand to conceal his guilty flush. Kanda just smirked at him, obviously not buying it, but nice enough not to pester him further. Hell hath no fury than a witch scorned, and even the big bad wolf knew that.

Allen turned the key and the engine purred to life. They were on the motorway again, and for a while, they sat in silence, listening to whatever tunes the available radio station was playing. The white sheets of snow offered little by way of scenery, but there was something nice about having the road all to themselves. Kanda was stilled, watching the light snow drift down lazily around them while the sounds from the radio faded into the background. It was something Allen could appreciate about their relationship. Most people couldn’t stand a single moment of silence, and would always try to fill it with awkward small talk. Not Allen and Kanda. They appreciated a quiet moment, and in a strange way, enjoyed being introverts together. Nothing ever felt forced between them, and Allen wouldn’t give that up for anything.

They were finally approaching his hometown, and Allen noticed that Kanda was fidgeting a bit after being trapped for so long in the car. He smiled; Kanda put up with so much for his sake. Allen turned on to Mana’s street, and was beginning to feel more than a little anxious.

“Finally,” Kanda muttered. The small alley used for a driveway was vacant, as they had sold the aged Stratus that Mana used to drive. Kanda opened the door and practically flew out of the vehicle before it was even parked, but Allen remained, his fingers still gripping tightly to the transmission. He breathed in gently. Despite having been here several times since Mana’s untimely passing, it was the first time he would actually venture into the house. Allen was struck with mixed feelings of elation, fear, and guilt; he didn’t know what he would find inside, but clearing the house out was something he needed to do, something he shouldn’t have put off for as long as he did. It felt wrong to leave all of Mana’s possessions untouched for so long. He forced his tension to ease when Kanda came around to his side and tapped impatiently on the window.

“Sorry, I’m coming,” Allen said, unbuckling his seat belt and opening the car door, nearly pushing Kanda off balance in his haste. Kanda noticed his behaviour and found his hand as the door was shut, remaining unlocked. The lycan gave it a little reassuring squeeze, and Allen calmed.

The house seemed a lot smaller than he recalled, paler and darker now in its vacancy and neglect. The windows were fogged from the inside, telling Allen he would need to conjure a heating spell once inside. Mana had never needed to invest in air conditioning or heating units, being a witch. But now that he was gone, the house became a victim to the elements. He expected to find some damaged pipes, which would be expensive to repair, and would probably make the house more difficult to sell in the end. He tried to keep his mind off of the dooming thoughts while he fished the house key out of his pocket.

It was tricky to jimmy the frozen lock to open, but when he did, the door swung inwards, and the strong smell of witch assaulted them. Kanda wrinkled his nose and made a face. The smell wasn’t offensive, but it was overpowering. Allen shared a look with Kanda, knowing what it meant. Mana had been spelling heavily before his death, and whatever his project was had to still be inside. He didn’t know the nature of it, but whatever it was, it was probably powerful. Kanda, being a lycan, was immune to most forms of magic, so it was a likely bet he would be safe. Allen, on the other hand, chose to err on the side of caution.

Around his neck he wore a simple two-piece charm, a yin and yang pendant where the light half was carved from ash wood, and the dark half carved from yew. There were two beads inlaid in both sides which were made from silver and iron, respectively. To just anyone, it was a trendy little charm necklace that seemed to allude to Allen being a thick-rimmed glasses wearing hipster. The purpose of the charm, however, was to protect him from harmful spells and divination. Paranoia was a survival technique, Allen was taught, not a mental disability as some would believe. He bound the charm to his aura for now. The yew acted as a redirection charm, while the ash worked to hide his aura’s signature, which would make it impossible to trigger a hex designed for him, or for a sniffing spell to find him. Not that he was worried about finding targeted magic here, but anything could happen. Finally, the two inlays would dampen any magic around him; the silver counteracted for ley line magic, while the iron could dispel fey magic. It was the reason he didn’t wear it at all times, as the silver didn’t discriminate between his own magic and that of another. It protected him in a very general fashion, and he felt safer now that he’d invoked it.

Their breath came out in small puffs as they entered. Kanda took the lead, naturally, and Allen followed closely behind, shivering. It almost seemed colder inside the house. It was dark, and when he tried the light switch, nothing happened. Neither the cold nor the dark posed any problems for Kanda, the lucky bastard, but Allen didn’t have the same perks as his boyfriend did. Grumpily, he pulled on the ley line, channeling a small amount of energy and spindling it before letting go of the line. He tried the light switch again, and peeling the borrowed energy, the house lit up. It had only been abandoned for a few weeks, but the place seemed eerie. He’d grown up here, and visited several times in the last seven years or so, but despite that, the house looked foreign to him. It was like Mana took it all away with him when he died.

“We ought to check out his spelling room, first, see if he left anything unfinished,” Kanda suggested, and Allen couldn’t agree quicker.

“Downstairs. He repurposed the cellar into a spelling room four years ago.”

They went. The door to the cellar was located under the stairs, and it wouldn’t budge when Kanda tried the handle. “Allow me,” Allen said, lightly stepping in front of him. He placed a hand gently on the door frame, tracing the hairline gap down until he found the slightest crack.

“ _Apertus_ ,” Allen muttered, tracing inwards from the crack to an invisible rune. There was a click, and Allen tried the door again. It swung inward, and they both stared down into the steep descent of stairs. Allen redirected the lights to occupy the cellar, and they started down.

If it was cold in the house, it was freezing in the cellar. Allen stood close to Kanda, who was practically radiating heat. It stank of redwood down here, and there was definitely some magic still permeating the room. The middle of the room had been cleared, where a large pentagram was cut into the floor. There was a yew spelling table on one end, and the walls were packed with shelves of different herbs, odds and ends, and animal organs stored in jars. A bundle of sacks were piled up in the corner of the room, and Allen knew it was salt, essential for dispelling charms and potions, or containing a spell to a controlled area.

“This is freaky,” Kanda remarked, frowning at a jar nearby containing what appeared to be the deflated eyeball of an animal. Meanwhile, Allen was inspecting the floor. The light was just adequate enough to spy the grainy crystals carefully laid out in a line. Allen adjusted his glasses as his eyes followed it. It was a very unusual way to lay down salt. Usually, a circle was used to contain magic. Mana appeared to have been attempting to divide the room. Kanda stepped over the salt line, unconcerned with any possible threats. He picked up a pair of rings that were lying on the yew table, juggling them in his hand.

Allen jerked when one of the rings fell to the floor with an unusually loud clatter, rolling across the salt line and bumping into Allen’s boot. “Shit!” Allen cursed. The ring had disrupted the line. There was a drop in air pressure, and his ears popped as a jarring force hit him square in the chest. Kanda spun, eyes wild as he lunged for Allen. His ears were ringing, and he could hear Kanda saying his name. His blood felt like it was on fire, and then, just as quickly as it had come, it was over. The pressure receded. Allen opened his eyes. His glasses were broken, and the room was pitch black again.

“Allen!” Kanda repeated his name again, worried. Allen blinked. What in the hell was Mana trying to contain?

“I’m fine,” Allen gasped, surprised by his lack of breath.

“We’re getting out of here,” Kanda said, lifting him. Allen scooped up the ring that had broken the line and stuffed it in his pocket as Kanda ushered him up the stairs. “We’ll come by tomorrow with some proper magic dampeners. Give me your keys.” His alpha side was showing. Kanda often took a backseat in the relationship when it meant pleasing Allen, but when it came to serious situations, Kanda immediately took the reigns. He was protective like that, and Allen knew better than to argue with that side of him, so he deftly took the keys out of his pocket and gave them to Kanda.

Allen was quiet as they drove across town. The ring was sitting in his palm, his broken glasses in the pocket of his coat. He stared at the ring. It was quite plain, no etchings or designs on either side. It was thick, and heavy, too. But if it was in Mana’s spelling room, there had to be a purpose for it. For what, exactly, he wasn’t certain. Kanda stopped at a hotel, which was fairly nice for the size of the town. He paid for a suite, which Allen thought was a bit much, but if Kanda had the money for it, he didn’t have a reason to complain.

The room was spacious and even had a hot tub. There was a full-sized refrigerator and the washroom was huge. Kanda urged him to take a shower while he went to collect their backpacks from the car, and Allen indulged. He turned on the shower head, letting it run until it was steamy and hot. Allen stripped, then stepped inside. The water felt amazing on his cold skin, and he almost stayed for ten minutes before he finally picked up a bottle of shampoo.

Shower time was a good time to think. He wanted to know what Mana was up to shortly before his death, and if it was at all related to his illness. If only there was a ghost to consult…

“No, Allen, don’t think like that,” he admonished himself. He wouldn’t wish a purgatory on anyone, least of all his adopted father. He would have to go back there with a cleared mind. Something had gotten out, and that something didn’t seem at all friendly. It worried him. He shut off the water and could hear Kanda moving around in the bedroom. The queen-sized bed was squeaking. Allen smiled, exiting the washroom buck-naked.

Kanda had lost his shirt, and was busied fluffing up his pillow, but his head turned when Allen presented himself.

“Like what you see?” Allen flirted, stepping toward him in the bed.

“No,” Kanda said, sounding frightened suddenly. Allen paused, offended. Kanda was staring at him like he was an alien. The man crawled across the bed, reaching out to him, his hand warm against Allen’s chest. Then his thin fingers coiled around the pendant he wore, and Allen looked down.

The yew was charred, and the iron blackened. Allen fumbled with the string, lifting it over his head and breaking it from his aura. Why hadn’t he even thought to look at it before? The thing that had hit him in the cellar could have been deadly, but the magic dampener had done its job. The yew was charred because it deflected something harmful, but the iron…

He looked at Kanda, who was watching him in concern. Even Kanda knew what it meant.

“What the hell was that corker fucking with fey magic for?” Kanda questioned, but Allen didn’t have the answer. The ring. It was iron, too. Iron counteracted fey magic, which was something witches couldn’t normally protect themselves from. Someone was helping him, or someone was attacking him with it. The evidence was all there, but none of it made sense. Why was Mana at all involved with the fey? Fey were dangerous things, almost indistinguishable from humans and deadly with their wild form of magic. Witches, in all their history, were enemies of the fey. Were the fey somehow involved with Mana’s illness? It was all unsettling.

The mood was effectively killed. Allen sighed, setting the pendant down on the night stand and shakily crawling into bed next to Kanda. There would be no fun time tonight, and that was disappointing. At least they could cuddle. He squirmed in closer to the lycan, his head fitting perfectly on top of his chest. Allen blinked twice, turning off the lights. He felt Kanda’s warmth permeating the bed; one of the nice things about sleeping with him was that it was never cold underneath the blankets. Yet his bones felt chilled.


	4. Feast and Famine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Sex and gore

 

> **03 December, 2005**

In beautiful contrast to the dreadful thoughts he’d gone to sleep with, Allen awoke to the always wonderful sound of bacon sizzling in a pan. He cracked one misty eye open, seeing the light on in the kitchenette. Sure enough, the smell of grease and hotcakes filled his nostrils in his first waking breath. A huge smile spread across his lips as his bare toes touched the cold floor.

Straightening up the buttons on his pyjamas, Allen made for the kitchen, stretching out his shoulders and back as he walked.

“You’re up obnoxiously early Yu….” Allen trailed off as the kitchen came into view. The person cooking breakfast turned to face him, a goofy grin plastered on his face. He wore a white apron reading ‘kiss the cook’ with a big red heart in the middle. He held the pan in one hand and a spatula in the other.

Allen’s heart stopped. No, he was dreaming. Or having a nightmare. Lavi was in the kitchen, cooking him bacon as if it was where he was supposed to be. His hands shook, although if it were from nerves or the cold, he didn’t know. Lavi was exactly how he remembered him, with the flaming red hair, and those brilliant green eyes. His eighteen-year-old body was practically radiating.

“What’s wrong?” Lavi asked.

“La… Lav…” Allen swayed, feeling sick. His vision swam, and then there were two Lavis, both approaching him and saying his name. But the voice got deeper, the hair darker and longer, and the faces changed until they merged again into a different man.

“Allen,” Kanda said, setting down the pan and looking at him in concern.

“Lav… atory. Lavatory. I need to…” Allen backed away from his boyfriend, fleeing to the toilet. He shut the door and turned on the sink, splashing his face with ice cold water. What did he just see? He stared at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t going crazy; witches never just ‘ _go crazy._ ’ There’s always an explanation. He wasn’t dreaming, and that left only two implications. Either he’d just seen Lavi’s ghost, or witnessed a ley projection. He felt a lump in his throat. It was more than likely that Lavi was dead. Was it closure? Allen wiped the tears away before they could fall. It was a closure he needed. Something he’d been seeking for the last decade. But it wasn’t enough.

Why now? If Lavi had been dead this whole time, why would he only be seeing his ghost now? That would mean that Lavi’s ghost wanted something from him. When a ghost wanted something, it usually wasn’t more complicated than ensuring justice for their deaths, which were almost always criminal in nature. In this case, Lavi had been missing for ten years and had never been found. Allen didn’t know if he could stomach that.

There was a knocking on the door.

“Allen?” Kanda called from beyond. Allen wiped his cheeks one last time with his sleeves, taking a deep breath and opening the door. Kanda stood, lowering his fist and eying him cautiously as Allen pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly and burying his face into his chest. Kanda placed a hand gently on the top of his snowy white head. “Are you okay?”

“We need to talk,” Allen said, voice muffled. Kanda flinched at the words. “It’s okay… well it’s really not… but _we’re_ good. I love you.” Allen turned his head up and kissed him. “Can… can we eat breakfast, first?”

Kanda smiled, visibly calming.

 

* * *

 

 

Allen told Kanda about Lavi, leaving out the details of their relationship, owing to the fact that it was irrelevant to the situation. He didn’t need a jealous lycan trying to find his ex-lover who may or may not be dead. It was a very strange situation already, and he needed Kanda’s full cooperation in the matter.

“You’re not thinking about investigating the case?” Kanda said, chewing on his eighth slice of bacon. “This isn’t your district. And don’t forget, you’re effectively suspended right now.”

“This is important to me,” Allen retorted, putting down his fork. Kanda had gone all out on their breakfast, even topping the hotcakes with strawberries and heavy creme.

“You should know better than to interfere with what is very well an open case, even if it is considered inactive,” Kanda reminded him, pointing his own fork accusingly across the table. Allen looked down at his hands in shame. Shame for not telling Kanda the whole truth.

“I just… I just want to know what became of him. Please. I know things are already a problem with Mana’s house, but I want to keep tabs on this, too. I became a detective for this reason, Yu. No more unsolved mysteries, no more heartache waiting for answers. None… except this one.” The room fell silent. Kanda watched him intensely, thinking things over. He shut his eyes and sighed.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, his bacon forgotten. “You’re your own person, Allen, so I can’t stop you if you really want this. But if anyone… thing tries to hurt you, I’ll do everything in my power to stop them. That isn’t negotiable.”

“Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me,” Allen sighed, grateful. He knew it was rare when Kanda got soft on him; he didn’t take that at all for granted.

“Che,” Kanda said, looking down at his bacon, embarrassed. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Kanda stood, gathering his jacket. “I’m going to the store. I’ll pick up some materials for you and bring them back here. In the meantime, you could get some more rest, or ask around town about your friend. Call me before you do anything crazy. Meet back here in a couple hours?”

“Good idea,” Allen agreed. They kissed, and Kanda paused by the door.

“I’ll be taking the car. You’ll be alright?”

“Yeah,” Allen said. Kanda left. He actually wouldn’t mind a slow walk around town. Even if Mana was gone, this was still his childhood home. Allen dressed, layering up in warm clothes and spelling himself in a blanket of warmth for good measure. The hotel was located in the newer part of town; it had expanded quite a bit since he’d last been here. Before, it had only been occupied by a seedy diner and a couple of gas pumps. There was even a Tim Horton’s across the street from him now. But it wouldn’t do him a lot of good sticking around this side. He would need to venture to the suburbs.

The morning was cold and quiet, typical of the winter months. The sounds of his boots crunching into the day-old snow seemed to carry on for a whole block. Lonely as it seemed, Allen felt like he belonged. He’d walked these roads a hundred times or more, and despite feeling somewhat smaller than he remembered, they were nonetheless familiar. The first structure he came upon was his old high school. He stopped in front of the rickety chain links surrounding it, entwining his fingers and peering across the powdered lawn. Already, students were milling about its inner halls, commuting between classes. Joking with friends, avoiding the bullies, perhaps being the bullies themselves, or even studying in between to achieve top marks.

The side doors burst open from the gym, catching Allen’s eyes. Two kids, a boy and a girl, playing hooky. They laughed, driven by the adrenaline of not just breaking the rules, but doing so together. They paused, hand in hand, shared a kiss, then continued past the chain fence together, chucking snow at each other playfully as they went. Experiencing that feeling of first love, Allen thought, bittersweetly.

He’d had many bad memories here, but many good ones as well, thanks to Lavi. For every time Dev and his gang beat him up, Lavi would kiss any and all bruises. For every name he was called, Lavi would have a new pet name for him. For every bad memory, Lavi had created better ones with him.

“Come on, don’t be such a chicken,” he heard the male student saying, and to Allen’s surprise, they hadn’t gotten as far as he’d first thought. “You said you wanted to see it! This is the only chance, I don’t know when it’ll show up again!”

“Alright, let’s go,” the girl responded nervously. Allen ducked into the phone booth as the couple passed. Teenagers didn’t typically operate with much caution, so Allen was confident that even if they had noticed him there, they wouldn’t think he cared about what they were up to. But, what  _were_ they up to? He found himself curious enough to follow.

Keeping his distance, Allen pushed through the snow. The teens crossed the suburbs, not overly cautious, but at a hastened pace suggesting they didn’t want to be followed. In all his years, Allen had never been able to ignore his inquisitive nature. Getting involved in things he shouldn’t was all part of the package. It would be problematic if he were seen. Allen ducked behind a shed, and, making certain he wasn’t observed, muttered a curse under his breath.

Allen had always been adept at curses. All witches had a mantle of sorts, a type of magic they were especially talented at. While his adoptive father Mana was skilled with memory alteration, Allen could kindle a curse like it was nobody’s business. Witches excelling in black magic were looked upon as dangerous, generally, but Allen was careful about using his talents, vowing only to use them for good causes.

His curse bound his form to that of a redpoll, allowing him to spy on the teens from above. It was just in time, too, because they veered off the side roads and disappeared into the woods. An anxious chirp fell out of his beak. Nothing good could ever be found in the woods. The dark memory of Elda’s body stuffed into the sewage pipe ten years ago still haunted him to this day. He gathered his nerve and pursued, grateful for the tree cover.

The kids had slowed down, probably in part because they were out of the school’s range, but Allen could sense the girl’s fear. She was in no rush at all to go forward. Even Allen felt a strangeness he couldn’t put a finger on. It was a deep, thrumming emotion that didn’t belong to him, but to something else. If he had to guess, whatever this boy had discovered most likely wasn’t good. These kids were not safe. This wasn’t a mundane affair. Allen perched on a tree overhead as the girl stopped completely, unwilling to go any further.

“I’m scared, Leo,” she whimpered, as the boy, Leo, tugged at her arm.

“It’s not much farther,” he said, trying to encourage her. “It’s okay, I promise. Let’s keep going, Mimi.”

“I don’t know…” Mimi hesitated, but ultimately, Leo tugged her along yet. Allen couldn’t help but side with Mimi on this one. He would have stopped them now, but first, he needed to see exactly what it was.

The woods became thicker, and the snow on the ground deeper. Allen had to be careful not to disturb any snow overhead. He accidentally jostled some that was loose, knocking it onto an exposed rock with a splat that startled poor Mimi. She began crying.

“Mimi! It’s okay, look!” Leo pointed up at Allen, who did his best to appear like an ordinary, unconcerned avian. “It’s just a bird! We’re almost there!”

“You s-said that three times already!” Mimi sobbed. “Please, can we just go? This place doesn’t feel right.”

“It’s right around that next tree, I promise,” Leo assured her. Allen turned his head toward the place Leo indicated. “Just check it out, then we can go.”

Allen hopped from branch to branch, giving the teens a wide berth as he squared in on Leo’s indicated spot. There was a dip in elevation, and then ahead, a tiny clearing of trees. With Mimi’s sobbing fading behind him, Allen emerged into the clearing, his heart skipping a beat as he saw it.

There was a ring of tiger lilies in the middle of it, in full bloom. Never mind the fact that they didn’t belong in North America, but what were they doing here, buried up to their petals in the snow? It explained his uneasy feeling. There were wild energies seeping from the ring, unstable and dangerous. These kids couldn’t stay here.

“What is it?” He heard Mimi ask, distress still layering her trembling yet fascinated voice.

“I don’t know,” Leo answered, mesmerised. There was a crunch in the snow as he stepped forward. Allen peered down at them. Now, it was Mimi’s turn to pull at his arm.

“Don’t touch it!” She warned, but Leo shook her off. “No!” The girl lunged for him, grabbing hold of his other arm and tugging with all her might. Something had Leo in its grips, and was enticing him forward. “Leo, stop!”

Allen cried out in alarm as Leo began to struggle, no longer in control of himself. Now was the time to act. He dropped from the branch, breaking his curse and making a leap for Leo himself. Leo freed himself in the same moment, and both of them fell into the circle. There was a scream from Mimi, and a blast of heat like a furnace before the ground left them in a whirlwind of the red flowers.

 

* * *

 

 

They landed in a tangle of limbs, faces down in a pile of fallen leaves. Allen looked up, eyes bleary. There was a blueish tint to his vision, and the longer he observed, the more he began noticing everything wrong about his whereabouts. It wasn’t Earth, and that was immediately apparent. The sky above them was an intoxicating green, and the ground below them teeming with life. There were vibrant colours around them, mostly a crystal blue, with varying shades of pink and purple dotting the landscape. The boy below him squirmed, and Allen fought with his own body weight to lift himself off of the teen.

“Just what… how… who are you..?” Leo managed breathlessly. “Where are we?”

“I think…” Allen started carefully. It didn’t matter how much he said to this human at this point. No excuse he could come up with would satisfy the lad, and even then, would he be believed anyway? Right now, it was important that no matter what they escape as soon as possible, because one thing was becoming increasingly clear and horrifying to him. They had stumbled into Elphyne, the land of the fey. “I think we need to get out of here. Now.”

Allen could feel the wild magic nipping at his own curiously, tasting his brand of arcane which, for now, was foreign to it. He knew that in time, his mere presence could set off a disturbance, and the wild magic would become restless and want more. He’d heard the tales of witches having spent too long in Elphyne, either returning utterly maddened, or not at all.

“Oh man, this is freaky… b-but cool, I think,” Leo said next to him. “Where’s Mimi?!” He shouted suddenly. “ _Mimi! MIMI—!!_ "

“ _Shut up!_ " Allen hissed, and the boy shut his mouth. Leo couldn’t feel it since he wasn't a witch, but the air pressure was fluctuating rapidly. Somebody, or something, had found them. Allen put his arm out and backed against the teen. “Stay behind me, and keep quiet.”

It was too late, they were surrounded. Allen steadied himself as a dozen sets of tiny, black eyes emerged from the vibrant foliage. There were diminutive, hairless, pale-green winged creatures with very large mouths containing rows of shark-like teeth. They had stumpy legs and thick, long arms ending in just three fingers. In each of their palms was another mouth. He felt Leo shaking behind him. “What the _fuck_ are those?!”

“Tooth faeries,” Allen responded, paying no mind to Leo’s discontented laugh. The boy didn’t think he was serious. He didn’t know how humans could possibly have mistaken the things for anything but what they were; disgusting bastard spawn of the Dagda and something he decided to hump one day. They didn’t care about children’s teeth, unless they were attached to some tasty meat. Their wings snapped up from their backs, and their mouths opened with a low, primal sound. They were hungry.

“Wait,” Leo said, loudly, foolishly assuming they would listen. Twenty-four beady eyes turned on him. Allen stiffened. There was less than a second of silence before they screeched and launched themselves at the pair. Almost all of them descended upon poor Leo, who dropped to the ground and curled into the foetal position as they latched onto whatever body part they could, biting down on his flesh. Leo screamed.

Allen sprung into action, kicking aside the closest assailant. Its wings halted its trajectory, and it simply zoomed back at them, this time coming for Allen. He blasted it away with a blackfire curse. The creature gurgled, the cursed fire contained inside of its guts eating away at its insides. The wild magic in the air took notice, and Allen could feel its excitement. It seemed strange that the magic almost appeared to have its own personality and thoughts. He wished he could somehow convince it to get these creatures off of them.

But, like any witch, he did not trust the wild magic dominating this plane. That is where witches and fey differed. Witches were centuries gone from dealings with the Seelie court, whom considered them thieves for stealing their raw magic and bending it to their will. Ever since, they had been rivals, and although the wild magic would readily act on his behalf if he wanted it to, it would have the entire Seelie court after his head.

More tooth faeries appeared around them, perhaps drawn by the commotion and the scent of blood. Allen worked tirelessly to blast them off of Leo, who was looking more and more pale by the second, yet all they saw when their brethren exploded into flame was a clearer path to their meal. They just weren’t deterred. More and more of them appeared for the feast, and it wasn’t long before Allen himself was overwhelmed.

Hundreds of tiny bites scissored all along his left side, and with each thump of a faerie’s death there was a new set of teeth chomping down for another bite. Allen grit his own teeth, fighting a scream that wanted to erupt as his very substance was gnawed away. It could only make matters worse. If he opened his mouth, he feared that one of the tooth faeries would reach inside with one of their mouth-hands and chew off his tongue. It was a terrible thought.

There were screams all around him, and the biting ended quite abruptly. Allen was still alive. He rolled over in pain, feeling his winter coat drenched in blood that he wasn’t so sure was entirely his own. The dreadful thought pounded in his mind, realising that Leo hadn’t moved in over a minute. He didn’t want to look, but he needed to. Not only was he afraid that Leo was dead, but something else had arrived that had scared away the tooth faeries. Allen couldn’t help but think he was totally screwed. He couldn’t help but think that, once again, his curiosity had gotten him into trouble for the last time.

Allen turned his head to find the source of the tooth faerie’s flight, but he wasn’t at all prepared to see a familiar face. And, not only that, the feeling was evidently mutual.

“You? What are you doing here?!” Lavi’s shock was clear in his voice. He was unconcerned by the teen at his feet. Allen was lost for words. Lavi? What was he doing in Elphyne? Is this where he’d been, all this time? He’d definitely aged since then, now looking to clock in close to thirty. His body seemed to be riddled with new scars, like he’d been fighting on the front lines in some mythic war over the last decade or so. He was dressed the part, too, sporting a weathered travelling cloak bound by old world leathers.

His surprise transformed into anger, eyebrows creasing. He’d never in his life been on the receiving end of that look, and now, more than ever, Lavi appeared outright dangerous. Allen sat himself up with tremendous effort, shrinking away from the red-haired man.

“Lavi, it’s me!” Allen pleaded, but Lavi regarded him coldly, stepping forward. He’d never been scared like this in his life. The man knelt next to him, running his eyes up and down his body. His vibrant green orbs paused meaningfully on his damaged pendant, then rose again to meet his.

“Lavi…” Allen whispered.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Lavi said sternly, standing again and taking a step away. He traced the ground with his bare foot, sprouting the tiger lilies in his wake. He picked one up, twirling it in his fingers, and slipping it in between Allen’s silvery locks. Lavi’s expression softened, just for a moment, revealing a sad smile. “I was the fool. Please, forget about me.”

"What about him?" Allen asked feebly.

Not answering him, Lavi leaned in close, their lips nearly touching. But, perhaps thinking better of it, Lavi straightened, planting a kiss on Allen’s forehead instead. Then, his world faded away.

 

* * *

 

 

Allen woke with a start, clutching his sheets tightly. His heart hammered, and he bolted from his bed and ran barefooted across the room, yanking open the blinds to reveal the bleary afternoon sun. He was dressed in his pyjamas again, the blood gone, the pain gone, as if nothing had happened. But it had. Right?

He sunk to the floor, knees locked, and couldn’t stop his tears. The tiger lily fell from his hair, landing in his lap. It was real. Lavi was alive, and he was in Elphyne. But how? Why? He’d finally laid Lavi’s fate to rest in his mind, but now, he faced a hundred more burning questions, each one further challenging his emotional fragility.

It had crossed his thoughts that Lavi may have just become a captive of the fey, but he quickly pushed that idea from his mind, citing numbly the fate that befell poor Leo upon his entry. But that only lent one more possibility; that Lavi was a fey himself, and it had somehow escaped Allen’s notice all these years. How stupid he had been to assume Lavi was human. There were clues, even, like how many things Lavi had always refused to do, things as simple as getting a radiator for his flat. He always wore gloves when he worked, despite Thierry’s warnings. Allen felt so stupid for never having noticed that Lavi shied away from these things.

But now, an ugly thought entered his mind. Why was he here? If he was one of the fey, what had he even been doing on Earth, mingling with humans, and, by extension, witches? Was his love for Allen even real? Or had everything he’d known with Lavi just been a big lie? And in between it all, how had Mana gotten involved? He supposed that was the only place he could get answers, now. His tears fuelled by his newfound frustration, Allen punched the floor in pent up anger.

Did he deserve it? Allen had spent his whole life in regret that he’d never been truthful with Lavi about being a witch. But now, he knew, Lavi had never been truthful with him, either. Lies. Every happy moment in his life had come from lying.

He heard the door unlock and Kanda entered with the crinkling of paper bags.

Allen stood, exiting the bedroom, and making his way straight for Kanda just as he set the bags on the tabletop. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, tightly, wishing he could say everything on his mind, but managing only a tired sigh into his chest. He felt eternally grateful to have Kanda in his messed up, crazy life. And Kanda had no idea how badly he needed him right now.

Kanda seemed taken aback, but returned his embrace nonetheless.

“You haven’t moved all day, Moyashi?” he questioned. Allen remained silent. Kanda placed a hand on his head, entwining his long fingers in between his silky locks. “Moyashi,” Kanda repeated, more gently.

Allen skipped the words. He pulled Kanda’s head down, kissing him. Kanda returned it with uncertainty at first, but it wasn’t until they backed into the couch and Allen reached for his belt buckle that understanding dawned on him. A low, guttural sound escaped Kanda as he dropped his head, his weight a welcomed warmth pressing on Allen as his lips found his collarbone. The tail was out again, and his elongated nails gently plucked away at Allen’s buttons.

He didn’t let up as he pushed Allen down until his head rested on the arm of the couch. Allen dug his fingers into him as gentle teeth replaced his lips, reminded of his recent nightmare in Elphyne. He felt so guilty about what he was about to do after that whole ordeal, but part of him didn’t care. Part of him felt betrayed by Lavi, and that cementing his devotion to Kanda was the only way he could justify it all.

“What?” Kanda said flatly, pushing Allen’s shirt away.

“Nothing,” Allen moaned as Kanda made his way down his chest, dotting them with kisses. Allen finally gave in trying to reach his zipper and zapped it with a little kinetic magic. Kanda didn’t even flinch. Allen found him, his smooth skin tight under his questing fingers. Kanda exhaled long and slow. He pushed Kanda’s pants the rest of the way down, running his hand across the lycan’s backside. Allen still couldn’t get over how utterly _hairless_  Kanda was despite being a wolf.

Allen melted into the couch as his shoulders eased, then gasped as Kanda dropped his weight lower and panted in frantic need as the lycan’s lips moved under his jawline once more. Allen arched his back as Kanda playfully bit at his nipples. His fingers traced the path his lips were going to take, and waves of promise rolled through him when they did.

“Get these clothes off before I bloody destroy you,” Allen panted, going insane with want. Kanda smiled impishly as he pulled away. Allen took a much needed breath as he pushed Kanda beneath him and straddled his hips. The lycan’s claws found his zipper and worked it as Allen fumbled with the buttons on Kanda’s shirt. He sent his hands over the definition of Kanda’s chest and abs when he finally got the last one undone. Allen leaned over him, lips hovering over the hollow at his neck. He lingered there, hesitating. Then he bit down, and ran his teeth against Kanda’s skin and pulled at it gently.

Under him, Kanda shivered, his hands on Allen’s pants shaking. Allen pulled away.

“No,” Kanda whispered, holding him down. His face was strained. “Don’t stop. I won’t… I won’t break you. I promise.” Now the ears had emerged, folded back over his head as he strained to contain himself. Allen pinned him to the couch, hands searching. One of Kanda’s weaknesses was rough sex, and Allen always was afraid that it would get a little _too_  rough for him. In these instances, they had agreed to let Allen have the topside, because when Kanda got out of control, Allen walked away bloody.

His nails found purchase on Kanda’s chest, and his breath grew ragged as Allen dragged them down, leaving reddened trails. He repeated this process, pinning Kanda forcefully and biting down as much as he dared. His breath came out in a shuddering sound as he sent his hand down, searching. Their breath slipped out in tandem as they joined, Kanda slipping inside of him. His soft breathing rose to swirl in Allen’s thoughts, sending surges of need from his neck to his groin.

Hearts pounding, they moved together, pace steady, but promising. Allen felt his skin pulsing as Kanda’s free arm wrapped about him, holding him closer, the weight both imprisoning and secure. Allen clutched his shoulders, his breath coming fast against his lycan’s neck. Kanda’s rhythm shifted, and feeling his passion begin to crest, Allen gripped tighter to his partner.

“You can’t hurt me,” Kanda challenged. It tipped Allen over the edge, and he lunged hungrily into him with no thought of what he’d leave behind. Kanda groaned loudly, arms tightening as they both climaxed. Wave after wave crashed over him, and all he could do was drop his forehead into Kanda’s chest, taking a shaking breath.

It dawned on him that his back was cold, and that the warmth was from Kanda’s hand tracing a path up and down his spine. He stayed there a moment, listening to his heartbeat. Muscles trembling with fatigue, he pulled his head up, only to find Kanda’s eyes shut, a contented smile on his face.

“That was fun,” Allen whispered, pecking Kanda on the lips with a final, teasing bite of his lower lip. Kanda cracked one eye open.

“Fun,” he said, his smile contagious. “My wicked witch thought that was _fun_. You’re both a wide-eyed innocent and a veteran minx in the same package.”

Allen stiffened, but then laughed in spite of himself.

“And your pillow-talk sucks eggs.”

 


	5. Witching Hour

How in the world did Lavi manage to drag him to this party? Allen stood awkwardly near the door, as if ready to sprint at the first sign of danger. They were at Road Kamelot’s house, whose father was out of town on some kind of important corporate business trip. Allen had never particularly liked the girl, although she definitely wasn’t the worst of Lavi’s so-called mates. He was on constant vigil, keeping his distance from the twins most of all. Why oh why did he agree to come?

A warm arm draped itself heavily around Allen’s shoulders, and the scent of Lavi filled his senses, and he welcomed it. It had almost taken Lavi all night to convince Allen to come, which made them a bit late to the party. By the time they reached Road’s house, the party had been well under way, but it didn’t seem to dampen Lavi’s mood, as he seemed genuinely triumphant that Allen was with him, and nothing could change that.

“Oi, be my mate for the night!” Lavi declared, pushing a shot of silvery liquid into his hands. 

“Your what?” Allen asked apprehensively. 

“Oh you poor innocent duckling,” Lavi teased gently, “I forgot this was your first party. Everyone’s got a partner. We drink tit for tat, that’s how it works. Be my mate!”

“No thanks,” Allen said, handing the glass back, “I don’t drink.”

“Oh, come on Allen, you’re not going to have any fun unless you participate!” Lavi encouraged him. Allen scowled at him grumpily. 

“I’m only here because I know you’ll get yourself into trouble and… you’re my friend,” he finished, lowering his voice. 

“Come ooooooonnnn!” Lavi whined at him. “You’re my best friend, too, Allen. I want to do these things with you. Please? Just this once?” 

Allen stared at the red-haired boy with a mix of conflicting judgement calls. Lavi’s voice was beginning to be drowned out by the sounds of the other kids hollering loudly and turning up the radio as Nirvana started playing. He knit his brows when Lavi’s lower lip began to quiver.

“Don’t do that,” Allen grumped, snatching the glass again. Lavi’s whole face lit up in delight. He couldn’t suppress a smile cracking at his face as he went to fetch the twin shot. They threw back matching mouthfuls, and an instant later Allen returned with a disgusted look.

“God! Why-?!” he sputtered. Lavi laughed at his expense. 

“Come on, we’re going for another round. You and me, Allen. Right now, let’s go.”

“You’re nuts,” Allen gagged. Lavi was practically bouncing on his toes. 

“Not yet,” Lavi winked at him. They joined in a few card games, which Allen had to learn how to play between all of the drinks he was being made to take after the others figured out he was a newbie. The games fell apart as the players grew progressively less coherent, Allen included. Eleven o’clock found them sitting in a circle playing the most ridiculous game of Never Have I Ever, and Allen had been made to drink almost every turn, because Lavi had. He was getting rowdy now, and wanted to win a round for once.

“Never have I ever had sex,” Allen finally slurred, “Drink up, you shluts.”

“To the surprise of nobody,” Chaoji sniggered before downing his beer. 

“What did you say?” Allen growled at the boy. It was challenging to keep his nerves in check as his vision swam and his head started pounding. He thought about hexing the jerk.

“You’re a virgin, everyone knows that,” Timothy pitched in. Laughter rang out in their little circle like tiny drunken sleigh bells. “Like, have you even ever had a crush on anyone? I can’t even tell if you’ve hit puberty yet.”

The laughter was louder this time, and Allen could feel his face red hot in embarrassment. 

“Assholes,” Allen said, standing up and draining his Savannah. He left the circle and walked outside, ignoring the confused sounds coming from the pack of high schoolers behind him. There was a reason he never hung out with others, and he was once again reminded of that reason. He wasn’t like them, and they loved to remind him constantly in the worst possible way.

The chill of the outdoors was a shrill change from the noisy, stuffed inside of Road’s house. He walked a keen distance from the house, unconcerned whether or not her neighbours saw. He swayed down a slope of grass which was still presumably her property, and finally fell on his butt in a crunchy layer of frost. He looked up, seeing a handful of bright stars scattered in the night sky.

He wasn’t there long before a body fell down next to him, warm and smelling strongly of liquor. 

“I hate that game,” Allen said. “I’ve never done anything in my life.” That wasn’t entirely true- he’d done plenty of things, but they were all things he could never tell his classmates. The amount of normal teenager stuff he’d ever done was next to nothing. He played with the zipper of his jacket miserably, noting it had become stuck.

He heard a match flicking and a small spark as Lavi lit up a joint. “Then you don’t need to drink.”

“The whole point is to get drunk.”

“I’m sorry I forced you to come. I thought it would be fun.”

“It was fun,” Allen tried to reassure him, but his tone wasn’t overly convincing.

His friend took a long drag, exhaling blue and grey curls of smoke that formed patterns as they swirled off the end, disappearing into the night. Lavi passed it, and Allen’s ability to make judgement calls having already left him, he took it without complaint. Lavi was watching him now. The smoke curled about his head, and he thought that the trails they left seemed almost meaningful. Not that he would ever know what they were trying to tell him.

“You know,” Lavi started, “You’re awfully cute.”

A forced cloud of smoke emerged from Allen’s mouth as he coughed in a daze. 

“What-??”

“I dunno, you’re like,” Lavi tried to explain, but his eyes glassed over a little and he looked away shyly, shrugging. “Unique. Delicate. Pretty.”

“Oh my God,” Allen coughed, still trying to win his lungs back, “Oh my God, Lavi, you’re fucked up. You’re drunk.”

“So what? It’s the truth,” Lavi said, sounding hurt. They finished the rest of the joint in peace, too embarrassed to say anything further. It had become too hard to think straight, and now, with Lavi’s words worming their way into this puddle of chaotic goo he likened his train of thought, he could feel his brain beginning to shut down. What did Lavi even mean by that? Was he saying the truth, or was he just being drunk? A little of both?

“You’re blushing,” Lavi pointed out. “Do you like me?”

“Lavi,” Allen pleaded. “This isn’t funny. We… we’re friends.” But Lavi wasn’t looking at him like they were _just_ friends. He was leaned in a little closer than before, trying his best to keep his balance, searching Allen for something. The eye contact was heavy. Lavi was so, so close now.

“I like you,” Lavi carried on, “I really like you. I like your white hair, I like your eyes- they’re like looking at stars. I like all of your little quirks. I like when you’re around me. I like that I can relax around you, knowing you’ll never judge me for my ugly scars. You mean a lot to me, Allen. I’m always thinking about you.”

A pregnant minute passed between them as they searched each other. Nothing about Lavi’s demeanour told him he wasn’t being genuine. He could feel his stomach fluttering, although it was difficult to tell if it was from the mood or the crossfade kicking in.

“Allen,” Lavi asked, “Do you like me, too?”

 

> **04 December, 2005**

The low, powerful buzz of Allen’s cell phone broke the comfortable silence of their room. He cracked open one bleary eye, and another loud rattling resounded from the countertop to remind him that he’d fallen asleep curled up in Kanda’s arms. He warmed, then resented the moment he was forced to leave the temporary shelter. Kanda didn’t seem to want to let him move, either, his arms heavy atop their bare chests, but Allen was able to free himself by the third ring. He glanced at the clock as he flipped open the top of the phone, noting that some hours had passed, and it was already half past midnight. The only calls he ever got in the small hours were from the police department, and it usually meant he was needed elsewhere.

“Allen Walker speaking,” he said, trying to stifle his yawn.

“Detective Walker? This is Lenalee - sorry, Officer Lee,” the female on the other side introduced herself. “You gave me your personal number, sir?”

He didn’t like being called ‘sir,’ but when you were a ranking deputy, it was just another thing to get used to.

“Right,” Allen said smartly, still trying to wake up from the nap. The other end was silent, expectant. _Damn it, what poor timing._ He clutched at what he could to break the awkward pause. He decided he would just be forward with her. “I thought we might get to know each other better.” _Nailed it._

“Ex-cuse me?” Lenalee’s stilted voice erupted from the other end. “This is- highly- sir! Do you think I’m desperate or something? Tu m’écoutes-tu? I’m hanging up now! And- and I’m going to report you to the Chief-!”

“Wait! That’s not what I meant!” Allen scrambled. 

“Oh, and what did you mean? Look, just because I’m the only woman on the force—!”

“Relax!” Allen cut her off. “I’m gay! Okay?! I’m gay. That came out completely wrong!” A snort of laughter from the couch told him that not only did he wake up Kanda, but he was listening to the entire conversation. Damn lycans and their superpowered ears. Irritated, but now fully awake, Allen continued. “Look, I could actually use some help right now.”

“Lord help me,” Lenalee sighed on the other end. Allen groaned.

“Can I _please_ finish, woman?” he begged. Lenalee quieted. “I thought I’d ask you what you knew about summoning.”

Lenalee didn’t answer for a moment. It was as if she’d gone completely frozen. “Officer Lee?”

“Yes, sorry. I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” she answered. Allen stiffened. She was a witch, wasn’t she? That son of a bastard Tyki wouldn’t lie to him, would he? 

“Mikk mentioned…” Allen trailed off. “I’m sorry. I thought-“

“Mikk told you?” she said, suddenly with recognition in her voice. “Why would he tell you?” The question seemed almost rhetorical. “You’re not like the others?”

“Well, I’m a witch—,”

“ _WHAAT?!_ " Allen winced, holding the phone away from his ear. Kanda lost interest and stood up, sniffing around for something in the kitchen. He quickly found it, opening up a bag of ground up Colombian brew provided by the hotel and turning on the coffee maker. 

“I mean- I mean- hold on- _you?_ Our very own detective?” Lenalee squeed. Allen was beginning to have regrets about his approach. “I’ve never met another witch, I mean, not besides… well, you know- _REALLY?!_ " Allen had never imagined this sort of personality would befit a police officer, but she’d proven him wrong.

“Ok, ok, calme le pompom Lenalee,” she said, seeming to catch her breath a little. “So- summoning, right? What did you want to know?”

“I’ve never seen it performed before, but correct me if I’m wrong, there is always a circle involved, isn’t there?” Allen asked. Lenalee hesitated.

“Yes,” she said slowly, “When summoning demons, a circle is always used to contain it. You’re not thinking of-,”

“No, no,” Allen stopped her, “Actually, I might have found something similar, but I wasn’t sure what it was.” Kanda was attentive again. He gave him a nervous glance. He couldn’t just mention the faerie circle yet. “Are you free? I don’t suppose you could just… come look at it for me?”

“Where is it?” Lenalee asked, and Allen took her enthusiasm as a yes.

“I’ll text you the address,” he said. “I have something I need to do first.”

When he finally put down the phone, the coffee was almost ready and Kanda was standing next to the pot, filling up a tiny ceramic mug. “Please tell me you picked up some candles,” Allen asked. Kanda raised a brow. 

“Of course,” he answered. Allen searched the paper bags piled carelessly on the table earlier that evening, finding the bundle of wax candles near the bottom of its contents. Most mundane stores typically didn’t sell them, but find the right one run by someone from the magical community and such odds and ends were suddenly common goods. Allen wondered idly who in town might have run such a store, but he had other matters to focus on now.

“What are you doing?” Kanda asked him curiously as he sipped at the coffee. Allen set the candles in a triangular shape on top of the table after clearing the paper bags. He felt for the pendant, still fastened around his neck, and pulled it off, placing it between them. 

“Duplication curse,” Allen responded, distracted as he searched for the iron rings they had recovered from the cellar the night before. “If I’m involving another witch, I need to be certain she’s safe.”

Kanda seemed to accept this answer, settling down with a leg crossed over and coffee mug in one hand to observe. Although Kanda couldn’t invoke spells himself, he often took interest in watching Allen perform them. His thoughts drifted to Mana, lecturing him on how to set candles with their place names in their kitchen. He’d used tapers lit from their ‘hearth’- the pilot light on the kitchen stove- and he remembered how pleased Mana had been the day he learned how to light them on his own.

He scraped a bit of wax off the bottom of the nearest candle, holding it to the back of his teeth with his tongue. His thumb and index finger pinched the wick, and he slowly separated them, willing a spot of heat to grow between them as it set forth a complex charm to heat water. It was actually heating the moisture between his fingers until the wick burst into flame, but sure as dammit it worked either way. Using the wax he’d scraped off on his teeth as a focal object, he also managed not to set the room on fire. So far, so good. 

He went about lighting the other two candles in this manner, his pulse increasing. He didn’t like spelling like this. Aiming a curse at a living being was easy, but when it came to objects with the intent that the curse should stick made things a lot more delicate. This was the reason a spelling room was preferred- it was a lot safer- but as any witch would probably agree, it wasn’t totally necessary if you knew what you were doing. The only thing he was worried about was the after effects.

A movement on Kanda’s end caught his attention as the lycan pulled his own phone out, reading something and then punching the keys in to form what was presumably a text message. He was having a little trouble with it, however, has his claws were still a bit on the longer side. Allen shivered, remembering the feeling of those claws running down his back, leaving mild red trails. He inwardly berated himself. He needed to focus and finish this arts and crafts project before he set the damn smoke alarm off.

He found the iron rings, and set them on the table between two of the candles where they bisected. He hadn’t time for a pentagram, and didn’t feel like leaving evidence of witchcraft behind in his hotel, so he was working with imaginary lines. That was the part that scared him. The first candle had been set for protection, the second for the curse, which was duplication. The third would seal the curse so it couldn’t unravel. If they all went out at the end, then he’d successfully twisted the curse.

In the glow of his three candles, he massaged his finger, forcing out a welling of blood. He let it drip on each of the three items, then wiped the remainder of it on the three candles. He pulled his hand out of the circle. Scooting his chair back, he stood so that when they formed, he wouldn’t accidentally break them by having his legs in the lower halves. 

“ _Geminius,_ " he whispered, then touched the centre of the setup to close all three. He jerked as the magic flowed out and a haze of black rose to envelop the candles, the rings, the pendant, and himself. The extinguished protection candle had kept him intact, holding him so that only the curse kindled, and absolutely nothing more or less went with it, as was his intent. The second candle went out, binding the curse to the objects on the table, and when the third died down as well, Allen slumped in relief. He’d done it. Eyes closing, he reached for the back of the chair, bracing himself for the drain. He had all of three seconds before reality forced itself into balancing again, reaching out to bitch-slap him a good one. He collapsed to the floor.

“You okay there?” Allen brought his head up, finding concern in his partner’s worried face. Kanda put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m alright, it just hit me hard,” Allen said, gathering himself enough to get up. “That was daring with three.” Kanda glanced at the trio of accessories on the table, still smeared with the witch’s blood. The thing about spelling was that it took a lot of magical reserve out of the invoker. Likewise, it was why witches in the old days would spell in groups of three or more, to spread the imbalance it caused between them and ultimately minimise its backlash effects. Seeing as witches were so hard to come by these days, this manner of activity was not performed often anymore.

“So, care to explain what just happened, then?” Kanda said, plucking one of the rings from the tabletop and examining it as if to see if anything had physically changed.

“I used the rings to restore the pendant,” Allen explained, taking the said pendant and confirming that the iron was no longer blackened. “Likewise, I copied the enchantment from my pendant onto each of the rings. Since we know it’s fey magic we’re dealing with here, it only made sense to bolster the iron defence. You gonna offer me some coffee? Could really use some, now.”

Kanda smirked, standing and returning to the kitchenette to prepare Allen a mug. 

“What’s with that smirk?” Allen asked him, irritated, as he cleared the candles and wrapped them in the crinkly paper they’d come in.

“I didn’t plan on sleeping anyway,” Kanda said. Allen winced, but didn’t feel totally bad since the wolf did go to the trouble of brewing a whole pot of coffee already. Besides, he slept like a twig.

“Sorry,” Allen apologised lightly, accepting the coffee and settling at the cleared table. Kanda remained standing, staring at him. “What?”

“You look different when you’re twisting curses, did you know?” Kanda remarked. Allen’s brow creased in worry. He sipped at his coffee, recoiling a little because it was still hot. He twirled his finger over the top of it, two packets of sugar and a creamer hovering over Kanda’s shoulder and mixing into his coffee. How in the world did anyone drink this stuff black, he would never understand.

“How do you mean?”

Kanda shrugged, dropping his eyes to his own coffee. “You look tired, like you’ve done it so many times you don’t care anymore for the details.”

That was because he had, Allen noted, bitterly. 

“By the way,” Kanda continued, “What made you ask about summoning? Was your dad calling demons, you think?”

Allen froze. _Shit, shit, shit. He didn’t think Kanda would make that sort of connection._ He could almost hear Tyki’s smug laugh in his ear, _‘You’ve been a naughty boy, haven’t you, Allen?’_

“I-I’m actually not entirely certain,” Allen said truthfully, although he was careful about mentioning the faerie circle. “I thought it might be possible, considering the salt line. Not that I’ve ever summoned a demon before, but typically, a circle is used to confine it to keep the invoker safe. That’s what the salt is used for.”

“We broke it,” Kanda observed. Allen nodded. Kanda’s eyes narrowed. “And it hit you with fey magic?”

“Wild magic,” Allen corrected him. “But, yes, fey all the same. Demons can use it, too. It’s not exclusive to faeries.”

“Or witches?” Kanda guessed, interested.

“Or witches,” Allen confirmed. He could now see the gears turning behind Kanda’s brilliant almond eyes. He was a lycan, and a model, and sometimes a bit of an animal, but he wasn’t a fool. Allen almost felt like an idiot for trying to hide the fact that he’d run into his ex. God, he was stupid. But he didn’t want Kanda to worry. Faeries had a terrible reputation for being extremely dangerous, and if his experience earlier was any proof, it was probably true. There was a good reason they were mostly confined to their own space in reality.

“Can you summon faeries?” Kanda finally asked him. That gave Allen pause. He didn’t actually know if that was possible or not. The truth was, little was known about them to begin with. They even knew more about demons than they did faeries. Allen himself knew the bare minimum- they looked human, could use wild magic, and fed upon strong emotions such as happiness or grief. Typically, grief was a lot easier to come by, so that’s what faeries were known for flocking to. _Lavi must have seen me as a feast._ Allen thought, uncomfortably. The more he thought about it, however, the more things seemed to fit and he reckoned he was simply blind for missing all the signs before.

“Perhaps,” was Allen’s answer. If demons could be summoned from their own realms via a ley line, could faeries be summoned in a similar way from Elphyne? It was obvious that there was a way to form a connection. But how? “I suppose that’s something we could ask Officer Lee about.”

Kanda shrugged, turning away. He got the vague feeling that Kanda was thinking a lot more than he was letting on, but Allen was too nervous to ask. Pressing him further would only incriminate him to the fact that he wasn’t being entirely truthful about Lavi. And he already felt terrible about that. But he couldn’t go back now and amend it. He didn’t want to. He almost felt embarrassed beyond admitting he’d been intimate with a faerie.

“I’m going for a run,” Kanda announced suddenly. Allen turned his eyes up in alarm. Running in all weather types wasn’t uncommon for his kind, but Allen was afraid for another reason. What if the circle was still out there?

“Now?” Allen asked. He stood. “I’ll come wi-“

“Not that kind of run,” Kanda said, hand on his chest, gently pushing him back until he was settled into the chair again. As understanding dawned on Allen, he curled up into the seat, holding his mug of coffee close as he felt a chill. Even if Allen could curse himself into a wolf, it was not the same, and never would be. For Kanda, it was feeling the wind on his face, the earth under his paws. Allen could understand the lure, having run before as a wolf and existed for a short time with the wind bringing messages to his ears. But he wasn’t a wolf. He was a witch. It was one of the things he felt he was missing out on sharing in their relationship, and it hurt to know his soul would never be that free. But likewise, Allen had done plenty of witchy shit Kanda would never be able to experience. He supposed that was the price to pay falling in love with a creature so beautifully different from himself.

“Take a ring,” Allen told him. Kanda complied without argument. At least it would make him feel a little better. Maybe he was overthinking it, but if Lavi had any malicious intent, and knew about Kanda… no, he was definitely overthinking things.

“I’ll be back by sunrise,” he promised, and they kissed. “I need to know if there are any local packs I should be aware of.”

“Just take care. And don’t scare any locals. There’s a lot of humans in this town, you know,” Allen said. Kanda gave him a wolfish grin.

"No promises, Moyashi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a break from writing this story to focus on some other things going on in my world. I still have every intention to finish, but please have patience. :)


	6. Revenant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Happy Halloween! : )

 

>  
> 
> **04 December, 2005**

 

Allen couldn’t bear to wait for the sun to come up. He was dead tired, but he needed answers. Plus, he couldn’t sleep knowing Kanda was out there. He trusted his partner completely, but couldn’t shake the feeling that one day harm would come to one of them for being what they were. It was a fate all non-humans shared. Eventually, the wrong person would catch on, and nothing good ever came of it. 

In such circumstances, there were safeguards in place to assist the parties involved. Witches adept with charms were often employed as damage control officers, which Mana happened to do himself as a side job. There existed a special hotline one could call to inform a local agency, and if memory alteration was required, a witch would be sent alongside any further necessary crew. Since witches remained hard to come by as it was, Mana made a pretty stack doing this work, few and far between as incidents occurred. 

However, such precautions weren’t always one hundred percent effective. It wasn’t always just humans trying to kill them, just as humans often killed their own. Lycans were extremely territorial beings, and were known to kill lone wolves or even slaughter whole packs simply for trespassing. Likewise, witches were often hunted out of fear. Witches had long been feared for their power throughout history, but after the events of Salem, the narrative changed, and witches were less eager to reveal themselves. The violence did eventually settle down in the modern age, but hate crimes still happened. It was often a surprise to meet a fellow witch.

Needless to say, Allen was both excited and anxious to officially meet Lenalee. He tried to reason that Tyki knowingly brought her onto the force due to the rising crime in Toronto, but knowing that her mantle appeared to revolve around demons, he had his doubts. Only a fraction of homicides occurring in his district were supernatural in nature. Of the handful of these cases, none of them involved demons. He almost wanted to kick himself for not questioning Tyki about that, but then again, Tyki was an undead vampire, and pissing him off was never an especially relaxing occasion, to say the least. Asking Lenalee herself might be rude. Maybe he was overthinking things, again. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Allen opted for a quick shower before heading out. He tore off his clothes while he waited for the water to warm, pausing in front of the mirror to observe the light, faintly reddened patch of skin where the fey magic had struck him. It sat in the crook of his neck, and could have easily passed as a love bite from Kanda, except it wasn’t. The skin was sensitive to the touch, and would need to be examined later. 

He stepped under the stream, releasing a contented breath as the water running from the showerhead eased the chill of the morning. Shampoo suds slid down his wet skin, collecting at his bare toes. And, slowly, those suds crawled back up his body. Allen shuddered as the water turned cold, and he adjusted the valve with no success. Frustrated, he wished the spell he’d used earlier would work on running waters without busting the pipes. He resigned to enduring the cold shower and raising his body heat instead.

When he did so, it became clear that the coldness he felt wasn’t coming from the water, but the hands trailing up gently over his ribcage. Allen started, spinning in the tub and coming face to face with Lavi’s ashen face. His startled shout was drowned out when Lavi’s hand imprisoned his mouth so forcefully that Allen’s head was smashed into the shower wall, spraying shampoo everywhere. Lavi’s gleaming emeralds were encircled in red, looking like a plume of wildfire. His thick eyebrows were creased with murderous intent.

“ _Mmph—mm-hhm—!!_ ” Lavi’s other hand held fast to Allen’s neck, and the witch gasped for breath. His hands flew up and wrestled with Lavi’s futilely. His arms splayed out, gathering the shower curtain and losing his balance. He fell forward, extricating the curtain from the rings as he plunged to the tile with it wrapped around his body. With his adrenaline surging, he recoiled from the ever-running water and tangled with the shower curtain, already twisting a curse under his breath to fire at his assailant. But as he threw it down, Lavi was gone. It was quiet save for the sound of the heavy droplets hitting the ceramic, and Allen’s laboured breathing.

One shaking hand slapped onto the vanity above, then another, and Allen rose, not daring to take his eyes off of the scene of the crime. He could still feel Lavi’s fingers on his neck, his jaw crushed in Lavi’s powerful, vice-like grip. Slowly, he brought a hand before him, blinking the water and stray lather from his eyelashes as he observed the untarnished iron ring he wore. It didn’t work, but how? He was certain he’d done everything right.  

Allen managed to stand, shutting off the water and wrapping himself in a towel. None of it made any sense. He’d seen Lavi in Elphyne, and that was evidence enough he was still alive. But the shade that had just attacked him was unaffected by the iron, and he’d never seen a ghost lash out so malevolently. He needed to get out of here.

 

Allen dried himself and threw on some clothes, gathering his cell phone and wallet before fitting on his boots and parka, swapping his ring for his amulet and tucking the ring in its pocket. He was out the door before his glasses even cleared of their fog. His hastened pace took him further and further away, and finally, he could think clearly again with the snow swirling at his ankles. But the conundrum had already made its hundredth lap in his mind, and had come no closer to finding a new path. 

He ruled out the obvious; it was no ghost. Lavi was still very much alive, albeit on another plane. It was not a faerie glamour, or his ironbound aura would have easily killed it upon contact. It could perhaps have been a demon, Allen thought, but it was a hasty conclusion to jump to considering he could think of nobody who would set a demon on him like that- least of all a demon who would dare take that form. But he didn’t rule it out, because so far, it was the only explanation that made any sense.

 He turned as a car horn sounded twice behind him, accompanied by the sound of crunching snow. Allen turned, surprised.

 “Did not think to find you out here,” Lenalee said, rolling down her window. “What are you doing? Get in! _Te dépêches-tu!_ ”

Allen didn’t argue. He entered the vehicle through the passenger side, which was a decade old Cadillac with carpet. Impressive. It was very warm inside, so Allen dropped the body heating spell as Lenalee looked at him strangely. 

“There is shampoo still in your hair,” she observed slowly, as if uncertain whether saying so would offend him. 

“Yeah, I know,” Allen answered shortly, not ready yet to explain. “How did you find me so quickly, officer?”

“ _Je ne dirai pas,_ it is my secret,” she answered, winking. 

 Allen shook his head, sighing as he rolled up the window and clouded it with his breath. “Whatever. Want to get some breakfast? I’m starving. My treat.” 

 “Lead the way,” Lenalee agreed cheerfully. “But after- the circle?”

 Allen nodded grimly. He wasn’t so sure if visiting it right away would be very good for his health, but perhaps having another witch present would help bring him some more answers, because he had enough questions already. Plus, Lenalee seemed positively enthusiastic about seeing it, so much in fact that she couldn’t seem to wait to be over with her food. She ordered a vegetarian omelette, but Allen ordered a full stack of hotcakes, with maple syrup so pure and exquisite he could almost hear his stomach singing the national anthem. And he savoured it.

 “Something is bothering you,” Lenalee guessed, once again unnervingly observant. Allen’s bespectacled, cerulean eyes lifted from his half-devoured stack. She took a quick glance around the restaurant before she leaned forward and added, “You shovel food into your mouth like a dog.”

 “That’s how I normally eat,” Allen defended himself indignantly stabbing a fork into his remaining stack. He swallowed his chunk of pancake as Lenalee tsked at him.

 “I am trained to read body language, the sort of criminals I hunt always have tells. Shifty eyes, nervous glances… overzealous enthusiasm for comforting activities,” she accusingly eyed his stack of hotcakes with her thin, raised eyebrows.

_Of course you are,_ Allen thought, bitterly. The criminals she spoke of course being the sort of people who summoned demons as a sport. He felt a layer of magic surround them, giving him a moment’s pause before he realised it was Lenalee who had conjured an anti-eavesdropping spell. And it was a good one- the sort that prevented lipreading. He’d forgotten what it was like to be in the presence of a fellow witch, and magic that was not his own would normally set him on edge.

“Tell me you have good reason for asking me to come here?” She asked, her tone shifting ever more seriously. Allen really didn’t know where to begin, but she was right. He’d asked for her help, and he would have to let her in. He pressed his lips together, setting his eating utensil down slowly and mulling over where he should even begin. Then, he took a deep breath.

“Everything I tell you stays between us,” Allen insisted. She met his eyes momentarily, offering a curt nod. He extracted the iron ring from his pocket and slid it across the table toward her. Allen leaned back and began to explain the strange circumstances surrounding Mana’s death, the circle he found in the cellar, the wild magic it released when the salt broke, and even the faerie circle. As Lenalee listened, she had taken the ring and slipped it over her index finger as she absorbed the information, her focus on his account unwavering.

“So…” she hedged when Allen finished, “So you’re telling me we’re dealing with faeries? Not demons?” 

“I haven’t ruled out demons, but faeries? Without a doubt,” Allen confirmed grimly. She kept her eyes down, not saying a word, but Allen could see she was deep in thought. Her mug sat cold upon the table, each of them into their third cup. The waitress had long given up refilling them and left a carafe in between the two officers. 

“And your friend? He is a faerie?” Lenalee asked, for the third time, perhaps. Allen nodded. He refilled his mug with what was left in the carafe. 

“You need to know something about me, Officer,” Allen said. Her eyes lifted from the table, listening. She was good at that. Allen licked at his teeth nervously. This was not a secret he let people in on gently. It was a secret which set him apart from other witches, even. “I can see the dead. I’ve always been able to, for as long as I can remember. And they know I can see them. They seek me out. Usually, they lead me somewhere- the dead can’t talk, see- and it’s the reason I’m able to solve cold cases so effectively. They give me the answers I need, because they want that closure, too.” 

“This morning,” Allen continued, taking a shuddering breath and fighting to keep his hands steady. The inferno in Lavi’s eyes returned to the forefront of his mind and he drowned it out with the burn of coffee down his throat. “I was attacked. I don’t know what it was. I thought it was a ghost at first but- but it looked just like him and-“ He choked, and angled his face down, letting his glasses slide down his nose to hide the tears welling in his eyes. Damn it. He looked like such a fool. How embarrassing and unprofessional. He said no more. 

 

Whether it was because she didn’t know what to say, or she sensed the anguish was for more than just some long lost friend, she reached across the table and squeezed his hand to offer comfort. Allen managed to collect himself and, with cheeks flushed, he raised his face again. 

“It tried to kill me. I’ve never- _never_ \- met a spirit so intent to murder, or one even capable for that matter,” he explained. “It wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been. Lavi, he’s alive. That thing wasn’t him. It was something else.” 

“Do you think it was a demon?” Lenalee questioned him. He was, at that moment, envious of her ability to remain even-toned and professional. Maybe Tyki was right to bring her on the force. She was way better at this than he ever was.

“Maybe,” Allen answered, “I don’t know. I thought you would. You’re the demon expert.”

Lenalee gave a crooked smile, leaning back and crossing her arms. “That I am. But I would first have to meet this demon. I have a unique faculty, too, Detective.”

Allen blinked. “You do?”

“Of course. Did you think you were the only one?” Her cocky tone was back. 

“Well, _yeah._ ”

“ _Non, non,_ you can see the dead, Detective. That is your special power, and yours alone. Some witches are born with unexplainable gifts. It is rare, _oui_ , but not unheard of. My own brother had no such aptitude. I can hear the ley lines. I can see and feel them,” she grew excited, gesturing to the layer of soundproofing around them. “I see magic.”

Allen raised his brows. Now that was news to him. Mana always told him that witches could often have talents, such as his own for twisting curses, and Mana’s affinity for memory alteration. But up until this moment, he was convinced that being able to do anything more was simply weird, even for a witch. God, he lived in a bubble. 

 Allen wet his lips, trying to bring himself back to the present. “Can you see any variety?”

 Lenalee appeared uncertain. “Wild magic, you mean? Erm,” she pursed her own lips. “Maybe.”

 

Allen flagged down their waitress and paid for breakfast. He needed Lenalee’s ability. A spark of hope ignited in his heart as they climbed back into her Cadillac, the tyres crunching in the snow. Perhaps she could help him find some answers. The drive over was short, as Mana’s house was only a few more blocks away. But the fear gripped him as they pulled in front of the house. Lenalee opened the door quickly, her excited chatter briefly muted as she shut it behind her and walked away. Allen remained in his seat, staring ahead at the lonely door with apprehension. 

What if she couldn’t find anything? What if this was something more? He had no idea what Mana was doing before his death. He could very well have been dealing in demons. Of course, he trusted Lenalee would be the right woman for the job if it were. What if his ring wasn’t working? What if the cellar was still home to some wild magic? He didn’t want to be leading Lenalee into a dangerous situation.

Lenalee had come around and rapped on his window, breaking him from his anxious reverie. He unbuckled and exited, fumbling with his keys and unlocking the door. Just as before, it swung open into the unwelcoming dark. Lenalee made a face as she was hit by the strong odour of redwood, the telltale scent of a witch. Allen went through the motions of lighting up the house, and ushered Lenalee to the cellar. He repeated the ritual and incantation to unlock the door, and put his hand on the doorknob. 

“Wait,” Lenalee whispered with a sharp intake of breath. Allen turned to look at her. Her bright amber eyes were transfixed on the floor. She backed up, arms stiffly at her sides as a fascinated look appeared on her face. “This is a ley line, but not like one I’ve seen before!” Allen didn’t know what a ley line was supposed to look like, so he couldn’t quite share in her excitement. 

“What’s different about it?” Allen dared to ask. Lenalee seemed eager to provide an answer.

“Everything! The colours and the rhythm… they have a sort of heartbeat, you know,” Lenalee was almost rambling as she moved about the room. He expected her to begin tearing out the floorboards. She looked toward the door, then to the cellar. “Is it underground? _Mon Dieu_ it must run straight through his cellar!” The overly excited officer advanced to the basement door, which Allen still hadn’t opened yet. He didn’t know if he wanted to anymore. There was a _ley line_ running through the house? Wouldn’t it have felt different to use it, then? Could it be the reason Mana had chosen to live here in the first place? Allen swallowed. It was far too late to convince her otherwise, so he opened the door. Lenalee descended inside fearlessly, throwing up some lights as she went. 

Allen followed, struck by the heavy scent of spelling that still permeated the room. At least this time, he expected it. Lenalee didn’t seem put off by it at all, perhaps owing to being more familiar with witchery than he’d ever been.

“So, what do you think? Demons? Faeries?” Allen asked as he took the final step down. Lenalee wasn’t even looking at the pentagram etched into the floor. Her almond eyes were transfixed on the wall above it as she stood stock-still in the middle of the room. Allen proceeded carefully behind her, observing the wall she was staring at, but finding nothing. It was just that- a wall. “Is this the ley line?"

She didn’t answer at first, and had Allen worried she was in a spellbound trance. She blinked several times. “No,” she answered. Her voice sounded haunted now, and she wouldn’t take her eyes off the wall. “I’m not sure, but this could be a faerie circle. I’ve never seen one before.”

“I don’t see anything,” Allen noted. 

“Let me show you,” she said. Allen’s head jerked down at her. 

“What-?” She put her hand on his shoulder, and as she did so he almost lost his balance. The world around him lit up with colours and patterns, his perspective shifted downward. 

“I’ve bound your sight to mine. You’re seeing what I see,” she explained, briefly peeling her eyes to look at Allen, who stumbled back a step as she did so. He could still control his body, but it was like seeing himself in a movie scene. “Don’t move.” She looked back at the wall. Where there was nothing before, now, there existed a ring etched in a faintly glowing light. It was reminiscent of a Celtic knot, with dozens of tiny, flowing lines both tangled into a complicated pattern and unending. Within the patterns, he could almost make out the likeness of animals, such as foxes and deer, and some figures looking an awful lot like lesser fey.

There were words etched into the knot work, too. He didn’t understand them, as they were written not only in a language he didn’t recognise, but with an alphabet he’d never seen, either.

“This is so intricately done,” Lenalee stated breathlessly, “Did your dad do this?” Allen didn’t know. If he had, Mana had never mentioned anything about it. 

He was beginning to wonder if he even knew Mana at all.


End file.
